THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


' 


V 


', 


RHYMES 


WITH,  AND 
WITHOUT  REASON 


BY 


MARSHALL  LORIMER 


IF  YOU  BUT  READ  EACH  THROBBING  PAGE 
WITH  THAT  INTENT  THE  AUTHOR  PENNED, 
YOU  WILL  A  CERTAIN  GRIEF  ASSUAGE 
AND  GAIN  A  COMFORT  IN  THE  END. 


TRADE  PRINTING  COMPANY 

LOS   ANGELES,   CALIFORNIA 

1919 


Copyrighted  1919 

by 

Marshall  Lorlmer 
Los  Angeles,  California 


AUTHOR'S   RESTRICTED, 
AND   PERSONAL   EDITION. 


/ 


CONTENTS 

PEACE 13 

FAIR    PLAY 14 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  "76" 15 

THE  TRANSPORT  LINE 16 

HIS  MASK 17 

MY   IDEAL 18 

OUR  GOLD  STARS 19 

THE  "ROOKIE'S"  SAY  SO 20 

YE  MELTING  DAYS 22 

A  MATURITY  COMPLAINT 23 

"PUTTING   ONE   OVER" 24 

THE  LITTLE  THINGS  OF  LIFE 25 

ENCOURAGEMENT 27 

AFTER   THE   WAR 28 

PUT  YOURSELF  IN  HIS  SHOES 29 

YE  MEN  OF  SINEWS 30 

TRYING  IT  OUT 32 

THE    UNFORSEEN   ENEMY 33 

THE  ROAD  TO  DIVORCE 35 

ROBBED  OF  HIS  BIRTHRIGHT 36 

FROM  THE  BORDERLAND 38 

MY  DREAM  GIRL 39 

A  WESTERN  MEMORY 40 

THE  REMEDY 42 

THE   AUTHOR'S   BROTHER 44 

OFFER  CALL 45 

THE  CALL  OF  THE  BLOOD 46 

"BATTING  400" 48 

THRU  A  MIST 49 

A  CHRISTMAS  POEM 50 

AN  ACTOR'S  PRAYER...  ..  51 


CONTENTS-Continued 

"GETTING    NEXT" 52 

QUESTIONS 53 

SKIRMISHING 54 

THE  STORY  OF  "PURPLE  COW" 55 

THE  LESSON 56 

WRITING  T  0"UNCLE  SAM" 57 

A    PROPHECY 59 

THE    "BON   VIVANT" 60 

'TIS  KIND  TO  REMEMBER 62 

THE    MIRACLE 63 

A  PASSIONATE  HOUR 64 

EXIT   THE   SPORT 65 

RAVCOVSKY  WAS  INTERRUPTED 67 

TRY  IT   OUT 70 

PLAYING  THE  GAME 71 

ODD    VERSES 72 

READING   THE   FUTURE 73 

APOLOGIES  TO  KIPLING..... 74 

THE  DREGS  OF  LIFE 75 

"THE  STRAW  LADY" 76 

WITHERED   FAME 77 

THE  PASSING 78 

A  LOVE  SONG  (TO  F.  C.) 80 

THE   RESCUE 81 

POSTERITY'S  LOSS 82 

TOO   LATE 83 

IN  MEMORIUM 85 

A  VOICE  FROM  THE  GUTTER 86 

THRU  FAILURE  TO  GOD 88 

ITS  WORTH  WHILE 89 

THE  DESERTER'S  STORY 90 

LAUNCHED  INTO  LIFE 93 

TWO  BIRTHDAYS 94 

DEEDS 96 

THE    ONLOOKER 97 

MEMORY'S    VISION...  ..  98 


CONTENTS-  Continued 

SOME    BLESSINGS— BUT 99 

LIFE  SHOPPING 101 

THE  TROUBADOR'S  BALLAD 102 

OUR    NATIONAL    OATH 103 

LIVE— LET   LIVE 105 

TO  SOME   ONE 106 

A  VOYAGE  OF  DISCOVERY 107 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  HILLS 110 

FULFILLMENT Ill 

FANCY,  THE  GARDEN  OF  HOPE 112 

THE    SHIELD'S    REVERSE 113 

LOST  PARADISE 114 

CUPID'S    IRONY 115 

INCONSTANCY 116 

DON  JUAN'S  REFORM 117 

THE  INVALID 118 

DESOLATION 119 

UNSPOKEN 120 

YOU  WON  FAME 121 

LANGUAGE  OF  THE  EYES 122 

WHAT  WAS 123 

THE  LOVE  FLOWER  (TO  F.  C.) 124 

PUPPY    LOVE 125 

THE  ROAD  TO  POLLY'S  HEART : 126 

THE  SECRET 127 

I'M  JUST  A  VALENTINE 128 

I'LL  RETURN ..-„, 129 

THE  EMPIRE   CITY 130 

THE  CITY'S  CRY 131 

VACATION 132 

THE  TRIMMERS 134 

CONVINCING  HERSELF 136 

WRITING  HOME 137 

A  BAD  BARGAIN 138 

POSTPONED 139 

THE  EASY  ROAD....  ...141 


CONTENTS-Continued 

THE  WAGER 142 

STAR  DUST 143 

WHAT  WOULD  YOU  DO? 144 

THE  HANDWRITING  ON  THE  WALL ...145 

THE    REASON 146 

MY  ANSWER 147 

"PASS  OUT  CHECKS" 148 

MOTHER 149 

A  "CONTRETEMPS" 150 

LIFE'S   TRUEST  NOTE 153 

FAME  RENEWED 154 

LONE  SIGNALLER 155 

THE  "NE'ER  DO  WELL" 156 

CRITICISM 158 

THE  REWARD 159 

SUFFRAGISM 160 

THE  VIOLINCELLO 161 

A  HINT 162 

LOVE'S    ORDEAL 163 

A  WOMAN'S  HEART 164 

"MA  BELLE" 165 

HER  LEADING  MAN 166 

SO  FLEW— THE  "FLU" 168 

POET'S   LOVE 169 

GOD'S    DESIGN ....171 

THE  AMBASSADOR 172 

"BLAZING    THE    TRAIL" 174 

THE  SEASONS  OF  LIFE 176 

ANALYSIS 177 

THE  "STICKER"....  ...179 


FOREWARNED 

Thoughtful  Reader:  "RHYMES— 
WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON"  was 
never  intended  to  revolutionize  the  exist 
ing  standard  of  versification.  Nor  was  it 
intended  to  make  its  author  famous  over 
night.  But — being  ambitious  for  his 
Progeny,  he  felt  that  they  should  be  fed 
and  clothed  properly. 

His  only  desire  is  that  you  will  take 
them  into  your  homes,  and  give  them  a 
little  of  the  warmth  that  Foundlings 
merit. 

Should  you  have  occasion  to  censure 
them,  won't  you  do  it  as  gently  as  pos 
sible?  as  the  Author  could  not  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  destroy  them,  that  he  cher 
ished. 

He  is  humble  enough  to  know  that  it 
is  not  necessary  for  you  to  associate  his 
volume  on  the  same  library  table  with 
KIPLING,  SERVICE,  or  even  LORD  BY 
RON'S  works! 

But  if  you  deem  it  worthy  of  re-perusal 
the  Author's  aim  will  have  been  accom 
plished. 

Yours  cordially, 

MARSHALL  LORIMER. 
January   15th,    1919. 


POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON          13 


"PEACE" 

PEACE !  has  returned  to  us,  tenderly — 
proudly, 

Her  mission  accomplished  among  the  WAR 
LORDS. 

Her  "OLIVE  BRANCH"  circled  in  triumph, 
and  Justice. 

Her  future  resplendant — unguarded  by 
SWORDS. 

The  strain  of  the  PRICE,  is  lifted  forever. 

With  LIFE  !  as  the  most  precious  thing  in  her 
sight. 

Majestic  in  mien,  SHE  faced  the  War  Coun 
cil. 

Demanding  the  "World  right"  or  "finish  the 
fight." 

The  "Self-right"  of  Nations  to  govern  them 
selves  ! 

SHE,  uttered  this  Dictum,  of  LIBERTY'S 
aim, 

Propounding  humanity's  aims  as  a  basis — 

To  "Equity"  competition,  and  Fame. 

Autocracy's  head  was  lowered  and  humbled. 

As  "FREEDOM"  arose  with  her  radiant 
voice, 

And  uttered  the  Words,  that  ran  thru  the 
Nations. 

"PEACE  IS  YOUR  RULER  NOW;  MY 
CHILDREN  REJOICE!" 


14          POEMS— WITH  AND   WITHOUT   REASON 


FAIR  PLAY 

The  Boys,  who  were  ready,  and  training  in 

Camps, 

Are  one,  and  all  worthy  American  stamps, 
But  unlike  the  kind  which  we  every  day  lick — 
They  eagerly  waited  to  do  their  "Bit"  quick. 
They  went  thru  the  rigors  of  Army  routine, 
Dispensing  the  glory  those  others  have  seen, 
They  hiked  in   the  sweltering  sun  just  the 

same 

Like  comrades  afar,  who  got  into  the  game. 
They   fought  their   sham  battles  as  if  they 

were  real; 
With  firmness,  and  ardor  that  true  Soldier's 

feel. 

Their  wishes' — if  spoken,  all  pointed  to  France 
As  thoroughbreds,   under  restraint — for  the 

chance. 
We  do  not  detract  from  the  fame  of  "Our 

Boys!" 
Who  soon  will  return  to  our  welcoming 

noise ! 

We  feel  as  you  do,  that  we  can't  do  enough — 
To  show  admiration  of  good  Yankee  stuff ! 
But  shall  we  neglect  all  "Our  Boys"  Over 

here, 
Who  have   given   their   best — when   Peace — 

shall  appear? 
Or  shall  we  proclaim  that  Our  Soldier  Boys 

share 
In  some  of  the  Glory,  of  Those  ' '  Over  There ' '  ? 


POEMS — WITH   AND    WITHOUT    REASON  15 


"THE  SPIRIT  OF  '76' ' 

FORWARD !  says  our  President. 
This,  shall  our  watchword,  be. 
We  obey  the  precedent 
Which  gave  us  Liberty. 

Our  Forbears,  died  in  "76"! 

As  well  as  "61"! 

Like  them,  we'll  cross  the  "River  Styx" 

Like  them,  we  will  have  won. 

Today  we  use  the  "Arm  of  Force" 
Tomorrow  gain  the  right 
To  praise  the  spirit  of  the  source — 
That  prompted  us  to  fight. 


16  POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON 


"THE  TRANSPORT  LINE" 

Each  night  as  I  stood  at  the  old  "Lovers' 

Post," 

With  the  "Girl  of  My  Dreams"  in  my  arms, 
I  told  her  the  things  that  she  cared  to  hear 

most — 

While  my  eyes  feasted  over  her  charms. 
I  ravished  her  lips,  and  her  eyes,  and  her  hair, 
As  I  pleaded  the  hope  in  my  breast. 
She  failed  to  respond  to  my  knawing  despair, 
With  her  lips  to  my  own  sweetly  pressed. 

Yet,  somehow,  she  spoke  with  a  voiceless  con 
cern, 

Of  the  things  that  lay  deep  in  her  heart. 
Which  showed  me  that  she  might  in  after  days 

learn 

For  herself,  Cupid's  tortuous  chart. 
With  me  as  the  captain  to  pilot  our  ship 
Thru  a  sea  overcharged  with  delay, 
She  will  rise  to  the  flame  that  burns  on  my  lip, 
Thrilling  there  in  its  spark — will  repay. 


POEMS — WITH   AND    WITHOUT    REASON  17 


HIS  MASK 

I  cannot  tell  you  all  I  feel — 
To  do  so,  would  explain 
The  reason  why  my  senses  steal 
Always  to  you,  in  vain! 

I  cannot  hope  to  understand 
Myself,  these  latter  days, 
I  know  each  time  I  touch  your  hand, 
My  Eyes,  my  heart  betrays. 

That  call  confronts,  and  urges  me 
To  press  you  to  my  breast. 
And  tell  you,  Oh — so  tenderly 
Of  Love,  so  long  repressed ! 

I  fear  to  hope,  and  dread  to  ask 
The  smallest  kind  of  boon, 
For  fear  you  penetrate  the  mask, 
That  may  be  dropped — too  soon? 

Should  such  a  thing  E're  come  to  pass, 

As  we  stand  Face,  to  Face. 

My  happiness  would  far  surpass 

An  Angel,  high  in  grace. 

So  Dear,  I  '11  act  the  make-believe ; 
Of  Some — one  cold,  and  stern! 
In  time — I  may  myself  deceive 
In  thinking,  You  .  .  could  .  .  .  learn. 


18          POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON 


MY  IDEAL! 

I  am  looking  for  a  sweetheart, 

Can  you  tell  me  one  to  suit? 

She  must  have  such  winning  graces, 

That  time  will  not  refute ; 

I  do  not  seek  mere  beauty, 

For  this,  time,  can  erase, 

I  seek  that  deathless  passion 

Which  age  can  new  retrace. 

I  am  looking  for  a  sweetheart, 
With  the  light  of  virtue  clear, 
Who  can  look  into  my  eyes  without 
The  tremor  of  a  fear ; 
Whose  warm  arms  will  be  a  shelter, 
When  sorrow  leaves  its  Ruth, 
Whose  buoyancy  of  spirit  can 
Rejuvenate  lost  youth. 

I  am  looking  for  a  sweetheart, 
Who  can  claim  what  I  admire, 
In  me,  she'd  find  a  counterpart 
Who'd  live  in  her  desire; 
Who  would  in  stress  of  circumstance 
Stand  as  a  bulwark  strong, 
Shielding  her  against  mischance ! 
And  live  the  Old  Sweet  Song. 


POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON          19 


OUR  GOLD  STARS 

Sons  of  a  peaceful  hearth! 

Sons  of  our  dear  home  land. 

You  answered  all 

Your  country's  call 

Far  where  the  maddened  Earth 

Spewed  Death  on  Ev'ry  hand. 

Laying  aside  your  youth 
Without  the  least  remorse 
You  shouldered  arms 
Thru  War's  alarms 
Until  Fair  Freedom's  Truth 
Was  made  firm  by  your  force. 

Some  of  you  lie  "out  there" 

Beneath  a  midnight  sky 

Each  wooden  cross 

Will  mark  a  loss 

In  which  our  hearts  will  share 

Until  we  too — shall  die. 

Somewhere  above  ye  wait 
To  know  how  true  we  are ! 
We  shall  not  fail 
Your  gloried  trail — 
But  envy  your  high  state 
Each  son,  your  golden  star. 


20    POEMS — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  "ROOKIE'S"  SAY  SO 

We  waited,  how  we  waited — for  the  chance, 
To  drive  the  "Huns"  from  "Nap's"  immor 
tal  France, 

Yep,  we  fought  'em  off  their  feet, 
And  we  made  'em  face  defeat — 
'Till  they  skipped  in  wild  retreat 
At  our  advance. 

We  heard  so  much  about  their  deadly  gas? 
And  how  they  was  the  highest  fightin '  class  ? 
But  we  proved  it  all  the  "bunk" 
For  they  all  of  'em  was  ' '  punk ! ' ' 
'Tho  their  trail  was  like  the  Skunk 
That  wouldn't  pass. 

We  gave  'em  all  a  touch  of  what 's  to  come ! 
We  killed  a  lot,  and  even  captured  some ! 
And,  we  all  of  us,  felt  bad — 
When  they  yelled  out  "Kamarad!" 
For  we  wanted  to  keep  mad 
With  German — Scum! 

We're  "fed  up"  with  the  sight  of  "No-Man's 

Land" 
With  shell-Holes,  like  the  freckles  on  my 

hand, 

With  Ten  Million  miles  of  wire, 
And  with  Skies  always  on  fire, 


POEMS — WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON          21 

'Till  you  sure  begin  to  tire 
At  this  same  brand. 

At  last  there  comes  a  whisper  in  our  trench, 

To  hold  ourselves,  to  cover  up  the  French, 

We  all  hustle  into  line, 

For  these  Poilus  boys  are  fine, 

When  we  both  of  us  combine 

Well— "its  a  cinch!" 

The  75  's  are  roaring  in  the  rear ! 

Now,  "OVER  BOYS"  we  make  it  with  a 

cheer. 

We  stumble — get  up — and  run 
With  our  Bayonets  in  each  Gun, 
'Till  we  stick  it  in  a  "Hun" 
When  they  appear. 

We  penetrate  their  first  line  with  a  Yell! 
And  dig,  and  stab,   around  the   "BocheV 

hell, 

We're  not  after  prisoners, 
We're  exterminating  Curs, 
To  no  orders  we  refers — 
'Till  its  done  well. 

The  U.  S.  A.  won't  see  us  coming  back, 

'Till  Butcher  "Bill"  and  "Hindy"  get  the 

sack, 

For  we're  over  here  to  stay, 
With  our  Allies,  in  this  fray, 
For  that's  just  our  General's  way, 
We  mean— "BLACK  JACK." 


22    POEMS — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


YE  MELTING  DAYS 

I  cannot  stand  this  heat  somehow — 
It  makes  me  very  weak. 
The  Water  trickles  down  my  brow, 
I  always  seem  to  leak ! 

Its  quite  unnecessary  now — 
To  take  a  Daily  Bath ; 
Instead  of  Feet,  I  need  a  Prow 
To  float  upon  my  path ! 

If  this  keeps  up — I  surely  vow 
Not  once,  nor  twice — but  thrice — 
To  seek  the  North  Pole,  and  allow 
Myself,  to  turn  to  ICE. 


POEMS— WITH  AND    WITHOUT   REASON          23 


A  MATURITY  COMPLAINT 

Dear  "Uncle  Sam"  why  hesitate — 

What  are  you  waiting  for? 

If  you  don 't  hurry,  we  '11  be  late 

To  help  you  win  this  War ! 

Why  take  the  Youngsters  all  the  time? 

Give  them  a  chance  to  live; 

Take  Men  like  us — who  've  seen  our  prime- 

We  can  afford  to  give ! 

We're  steady,  ev'ry  one  of  us: 

And  know  what's  to  be  done, 

We  won't  get  nervous  in  a  Fuss 

With  any  Mother's  Son! 

So  send  us  out  to  end  this  Scrap ! 

We'll  know  just  what  to  do — 

We  '11  wipe  the  German 's  from  the  Map ! 

And  bring  back  "BILL"  to  you. 


24          POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON 

"PUTTING  ONE  OVER" 

"Broke?  Why,  yes,  you've  guessed  it; 

But  how  you  did  just  puzzles  me — 
My  clothes  are  good — and  don 't  they  fit  ? 

And  I  still  have  some  jewelry — 
You  smile — and  well,  I  see  the  joke, 

For  anyone  might  think  it  funny — 
To  see  a  man  who  is  dead  broke 

Got  up  to  look  like  ready  money : 
But  what's  a  man  to  do,  I  say? 

Must  he  be  kicked  into  perdition — 
Because  his  clothes  begin  to  fray ; 

Is  that  the  sign  he 's  lost  ambition  ? 
Just  take  my  case,  I've  worked — and  lost 

Most  everything  I  tried  to  gain ; 
And  smiled  my  best — and  payed  the  cost 

And  pulled  the  failure  from  my  brain, 
Oh,  yes — I've  had  the  blues,  but  damn  the 
blues ! 

And  all  the  devils  that  they  bring — 
A  coward  is  the  one  to  lose — 

The  road  on  life's  adventuring. 
You've  sized  me  up.    I  am  an  actor, 

Who  loves  his  art  in  all  its  phases — 
No  ridicule  could  be  a  factor 

To  down  the  hope  ambition  raises. 
Some  day,  perhaps,  "I  will  succeed, 

And  will  with  gratefulness  look  back 
Upon  the  sordid  path  of  need. 

When — what  I  could  have"  was  my  lack — 
Good-bye — No,  I  don't  think  'twill  rain. 

What 's  that,  you  can 't  pay  your  own  check  ? 
Say,  shake,  old  man,  we  're  in  again, 

And  someone — gets  it  in  the  neck." 


POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON  25 


THE  LITTLE  THINGS  IN  LIFE 

The  stage  was  set, 

And  on  my  knee 

A  little  flea 

Disported  carelessly, 

And  then  in  sport 

My  back  it  sought, 

I'll  swear  deliberately. 

What  could  I  do? 

(The  stage  was  set) 

The  players  on, 

And  about  me, 

Filled  with  glee 

The  audience  rocked, 

While  vengefully 

I  sought  the  flea, 

Which  at  my  antics  mocked. 

The  play  was  done, 
And  of  the  plot 
I  know  not, 
Except  I  felt 
Each  swelling  welt 
Upon  its  fearsome  track ! 
And  prayed  and  sighed 
The  flea  would  ride 
On  someone  else's  back. 

My  wish  was  granted, 
For  at  my  side 


26    POEMS — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

A  lady  tried 

To  get  at  what  she  wanted. 
It  seemed  that  she 
Had  caught  the  flea 
Which  had  just  bitten  me! 
She  squirmed  and  wriggled, 
And  I — just  giggled; 
At  least,  not  outwardly. 

Somehow  she  knew; 

My  face  askew 

Was  all  suffused  with  laughter, 

She  said  to  me, 

"Take  back  your  flea. — 

I  cannot  wait  till  after;" 
****** 

So  later  on 
With   bated  breath 
The  deed  was  done 
A  flea  met  death ! 


ffi 


POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT    REASON  27 


ENCOURAGEMENT 

There's  a  gleam  of  something  better 

For  the  man  who  faces  doom; 

There 's  a  warmth  of  welcome  begging 

Even  in  an  attic  room; 

There's  a  kindly  smile  just  waiting 

To  shine  out  from  some  stern  gloom, 

And  a  wealth  of  happiness  untold 

For  someone  to  consume ; 

There 's  a  hope  in  every  second 

That  no  sorrow  can  reduce, 

With  its  country  full  of  sunshine, 

That  happiness  turns  loose ; 

There 's  a  wish  that 's  always  longing 

To  be  put  to  some  good  use, 

For  the  road  is  marked  with  sign  posts 

For  those  going  to  the  deuce. 

So  meet  the  flings  that  Fate  will  bring 

With  utter  unconcern, 

And  smile,  and  whistle,  laugh,  and  sing. 

Till  better  days  return. 

Just  feel  yourself  the  conqueror ! 

Don't  quit,  lie  down,  or  whine, 

But  say :  ' '  I  've  been  a  blunderer 

Who  failed  to  see  sunshine." 


28    POEMS — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


AFTER  THE  WAR 

There's  a  happy  time  arriving, 
When  the  clang  of  War,  shall  cease, 
With  our  soldier  boys  returning 
To  a  deep,  and  lasting  peace. 
They'll  come  as  Hero's — ev'ry  one — 
With  souvenirs  galore, 
Of  Trophies  of  past  battles  won, 
In  this — the  World's  last  war! 

Autocracy  shall  be  no  more, 
But  a  lasting  brotherhood, 
With  ev'ry  Nation  striving  for 
The  Universal  good. 
The  Sword  shall  be  a  memory, 
Uncouth,  the  Cannons  roar, 
Each  home  will  know  real  liberty, 
With  "Welcome"  on  the  door. 

Those  days  will  mark  the  utter  doom 

Of  grasping  profiteers. 

When  normal  Industries  resume 

The  balance  of  War- Years! 

The  men  who  gave  their  ' '  Bit ' '  of  Brawn 

Will  be  Masters,  each — of — them! 

In  our  conception — of  that  Dawn — 

The  hoped-Millenium ! 


POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT   REASON          29 


PUT  YOURSELF  IN  HIS  SHOES 

It's  easy  and  simple  for  one  who  has  all 

To  lay  down  examples,  and  preach. 

And  tell  the  poor  devil  who's  lost  nerve  and 

gall, 
To  go  after  things  out  of  reach. 

It's  easy,  for  instance,  to  hand  out  advice — 
To  someone  whose  last  Coin  has  fled, 
When  tact,  or  practical  help,  would  suffice, 
To  guaranty  things  you  have  said. 

It 's  easy  to  mention  what  you  might  have  done 
If  you  had  the  other  man 's  place ! 
But  kindly  remember  that  not  everyone 
Can  conquer,  or  keep  up  your  pace ! 

It's  easy  to  help — if  you  follow  this  "tip" — 
By  putting  yourself  in  his  shoes ! 
You'll  not  sermonize  after  taking  one  trip — 
You  won't  have  the  heart  to  refuse. 


30     POEMS — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


YE  MEN  OF  SINEWS! 

•Mine,  is  the  Song  of  the  sinews ! 
Of  men  with  the  "Guts"  and  the  brawn, 
With  their  hands  hard  calloused  from  use, 
Who  grumbling  rise  with  the  dawn. 

Who  earnestly  face  the  days  work, 
With  grimness,  and  something  of  scorn, 
For  Loafers,  and  Idlers  who  shirk 
The  toil,  for  which  every  man's  born. 

Mine,  is  the  cry  of  the  Furnace ! 
That  pleads  for  its  Maw  to  be  filled, 
By  full-sweated  men, 
"VULCAN'S"  children! 
Obeying  the  voice  of  the  skilled. 

Their 's,  is  the  vision  of  clearness, 

They're  feeding  the  power  to  wield 

The  strenght  of  our  Son's, 

With  new  Ships,  and  Guns 

On  Sea,  and  red-scarred  battle-field. 

Mine,  is  the  urge  of  the  plodder! 
Who  tickles  the  earth  with  his  plow, 
Doubling  the  growth  of  our  fodder, 
With  the  Nation  back  of  him  now. 

His  thoughts  are  of  countless  starved-Ones, 
Who  wait  for  the  fruit  of  his  toil, 


POEMS— WITH   AND    WITHOUT    REASON          31 

He  feels  that  heroic  Belgiums — 

Will  "GOD  BLESS"  each  Son  of  the  soil. 

We  voice  the  keen  admiration 

Our  Toilers,  have  wrung  from  our  breast, 

Supreme  in  high,  or  low  station 

Each  backing  "our  Boys"  with  HIS  best. 

They  gave  what  they  could — 

As  earnest  men  should, 

Proud  of  their  strength,  and  elation, 

Not  one  would  refuse 

To  give  his  Sinews 

To  serve  a  unified  Nation. 

When  History's  probe  is  begun 
Of  which  did  the  best  in  this  War, 
Each  Mother  will  say  to  her  son, 
' '  My  own  Boy ! — you  couldn  't  do  more  ! ' ' 
No  praise  can  equal  this  tribute — 
When  her  Dear  loved  voice  will  enthuse ; 
T'will  thrillingly  render  you  mute — 
God  Bless  you,  Ye  Men  of  Sinews. 


ffi 


32    POEMS — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


TRYING  IT  OUT 

Is  it  possible  that  you 
Havn't  had  as  yet  the  "FLU" 
During  this  old  Epidemic? 
Didn't  you  Sniffle,  Cough,  or  Sneeze, 
And  feel  weak  around  the  knee's 
Cursing  everything  Germanic? 

Didn't  you  feel  quite  out  of  place 
With  a  gauze  mask  on  your  face, 
Like  an  ordinary  Bandit? 
And  the  order — not  to  kiss! 
Did  you  heed  it — or  do  this? 

You  couldn't  misunderstand — it! 

-• 

Did  you  heed  it  thoroughly, 
Inwardly,  and  outwardly 
As  you  suffered  tender  passion   ? 
Did  you  merely  try  it  out — 
Found  it  dull  without  a  doubt — 
Then  resumed  your  former  fashion? 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          S3 


THE  UNFORSEEN  ENEMY 

I  remember  as  a  child, 

How  I  wanted  to  be  wild. 

And  to  travel  far  afield 

Where  great  wealth  lay  all  concealed. 

And  where  Savages — galore 

Every  day  would  start  a  War. 

Well,  I  wanted  to  be  there, 

And  of  fighting,  have  my  share, 

Take  a  Scalp,  or  two  of  course 

Every  Hour  without  remorse. 

So  with  this  great  thing  in  view 

Planned,  just  what  I  wanted  to. 

So  in  time,  Myself,  and  Chum, 
Waited  for  the  day  to  come, 
And  it  came,  and  forth  we  went 
To  explore  this  Continent. 
He  was  Four,  and  I  was  Five, 
(Strange  to  say — we're  both  alive!) 
For  the  Savages  we  met — 
Still  continue  living  yet? 
They  nipped  every  plan  we  had, 
Which  believe  me,  made  us  MAD — 
One — commanded  us  to  stop — 
Curse  his  hide!  It  was  a  "Cop." 

He  disarmed  us  there,  and  then, 
Just  as  he  would  do  to  men  ? 


34          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

We  admit  it  came  quite  hard — 
Tho  the  "Cop"  won  our  regard, 
After  quite  a  little  while 
He  returned  them,  with  a  smile, 
Saying — "Kids,  yerve  got  the  grit" 
Then  he  bought  us  both  Ice-Cream, 
Which  just  fitted  in  our  scheme. 
Now  my  Chum,  and  I  admit 
That  it  wasn't  wrong  to  quit. 


ffi 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          35 


THE  ROAD  TO  DIVORCE 

A  Husband,  to  his  Wifie,  said — 

"I  trust  you  Darling  Mine" 

"The  world  may  say  your  Love  has  fled," 

"I'll  find  it  out  in  time?" 

"But  tho  they  sneer — I'll  seek  instead" 

The  Maiden  Love  I  won 

"And  seek  to  resurrect  the  dead 

Romance — we  first  had  spun." 

His  Wifie  puffed  her  Cigaret, 

And  sipping  her  Cocktail! 

Replied — "You  fool!  your  eyes  are  wet" 

' '  Your  platitudes,  are  stale  ! 

This  is  no  Age  of  vain  regret ; ' ' 

Or  sentimental  creed — " 

"You're  old!  or  you  would  not  expect — 

"Your  Wife  to  go  to  seed." 

The  Husband  gasped,  and  looked  askance 

At  his  bewildering  Spouse, 

And  muttered — "This  is  just  my  chance 

To  flee  this  shameful  house" 

At  4  G.  M.  he  had  returned 

Most  gloriously  drunk, 

And  told  his  Wife — "I've  been  interned — 

"My  moral  self  is  sunk" 

(Next  Day) 

"EXTRA!" 

BIG  DIVORCE  SUIT  STARTED 


36          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


ROBBED  OF  HIS  BIRTHRIGHT 

This  is  the  plea  of  a  Soldier  man,  who  is  off'- 
ring  his  all  in  all. 

Who  claims  to  be  an  American,  as  far  as  he 
can  recall, 

Before  he  enlisted  he  fought  for  his  rights,  in 
his  home  community, 

This  was  his  privilege,  signed  by  his  Ances 
tors  on  the  scroll  of  liberty. 

But  things  are  sadly  awry  he  thinks,  as  he 
fights  in  "No  Man's  Land" 

To  give  to  the  World  a  Democracy  it  shortly 
will  understand. 

He  wonders  why  he  is  fighting  for  this  prin 
ciple  "Over  there" 

When  he  is  denied  the  actual  thing — tho  he 
be  Freedom's  heir! 

He  carries  the  pride  of  his  Country's  Soul, 
sacred  within  his  heart, 

Yet  SHE  fails  him  now  when  he  is  afar ! 
tend 'ring  him  no  part! 

Her  favorite  Sons,  whose  ascendency  glowed 
on  his  growing  youth, 

May  take  high  Office,  or  go  to  discard,  sham 
ing  Liberty's  truth! 

The  lack  of  his  voice  is  unto  the  tomb,  as  well 
as  millions  of  others, 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          37 

Who  feel  as  he  feels,  as  earnest  as  he,  all  Fair 

"Columbia's  Brothers" 

While  political  bargainers,  sensing  the  void 

remain  at  home  and  gloat, 
At  the   Soldier-Men,  and  Freemen  all!  who 

are  too  far  away  now  to  vote. 
One  fact  still  remains,  t'is  a  paramount  fact, 

the  War  one  day  will  cease, 
Some  Millions  of  Freemen  will  have  returned 

in  the  days  that  follow  Peace  ! 
He  was  fighting  your  Battles,  and  taking  the 

Sign  of  Killer  upon  his  brow? 
It  is  in  the  realm  of  reason  some  day,  He'll 

inquire  the  "Whyfore,  and  HOW?" 


ffi 


38          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


FROM  THE  BORDERLAND 

I  sought  for  my  ideal,  the  perfect  man ! 
And  wandered  abroad  to  discover  him. 
One  glimpse  of  him,  then  my  fancy  outran 
His  physical  being  of  Face,  and  limb. 
Many  moons  I  wandered,  many  faces  scanned : 
But  fruitless  it  was,  and  in  weariness 
I  sought  a  retreat,  where  the  sea  and  the  sand, 
Could  echo  the  note  of  my  dreariness. 

Despairing  at  last,  I  kissed  the  sea's  crest, 
And  there  in  its  bosom  I  dreamed  a  dream 
That  he,  whom  I'd  sought,  pressed  me  to  his 

breast, 

And  gave  me  his  heart  for  my  past  esteem. 
Sub-conscious  I  knew  this  hero  of  tan, 
Was  one  with  my  ideal — the  Perfect  Man. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          39 


MY  DREAM  GIRL 

The  call  of  the  heart  is  with  me  my  Dear, 
Unquenehed  is  the  thirst  in  my  blood, 
And  mating  is  on — and  Spring  is  quite  near, 
And  Lovers  appear  as  they  should, 
Your  Eyes  are  sparkling  with  something 

divine, 

Presaging — the  ease  of  my  Soul, 
Flashing  a  message — that  may  make  you  mine, 
Returning  the  love  that  you  stole. 

At  times,  I  have  called  you  my  "Midnight 

Girl" 

So  often  you  came  in  my  sleep ! 
Tend 'ring  delights,  only  dreams  can  unfurl! 
Restraining  the  bliss  that  you  keep 
Your  future  Dear  Heart  is  woven  to  mine, 
Altho  you  seem  not  to  be  stirred  ? 
But  patience,  and  Love,  will  justify  time 
That  brings  me  a  SIGN— or  a  WORD. 


40          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  WESTERN  MEMORY 

In  the  meadow,  near  the  homestead,  where 

the  mountain  stream  ran  through, 
Where  the  golden  rod,  and  columbine,  in  wild 

profusion  grew, 
Where  the  vista  of  the  prairies  as  they 

stretched  and  met  the  skies, 
Where  the  glance  a  moment  rested  ere  the 
"rookies"  caught  the  eyes. 
There  the  earth  lay  wrapt  in  silence — till  the 

night  her  robe  assumed, 
When    coyotes,    and    the    dingoes,    all    their 

buried  prey  exhumed, 
There  I  grew  in  happy  childhood  'midst  the 

bronchos,  and  the  steers, 
There  I  mastered  feats  of  daring,  overcoming 

boyish  fears, 
There  I  learnt  the  sweetest  lesson  ever  taught 

by  girlish  lips, 
Who  came  into  my  existence  from  a  train  of 

"prairie  ships," 
How  we  used  to  wander  o'er  the  plains — two 

children  hand  in  hand, 
How  we  used  to  gloat  in  stories  of  the  red 

man,  and  his  land, 
Detecting  in  each  speck  we  saw — while  on  our 

rambling  walks, 
A  band  of  shrieking  savages — with  upraised 

tomahawks ! 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          41 

How  she  clung  to  me  in  terror — till  the  foe 

appeared  in  sight, 
While  my  boyish  heart  grew  stronger — in  her 

weakness,  for  the  fight; 
But  at  last  the  foe,  as  thunderstruck  would 

neigh,  and  show  their  heels, 
While   two   romantic   "make-believes"  would 

join  their  merry  peals. 
There  the  "punchers"  found  us  often  after 

searching  high  and  low, 
And  in  triumph  bore  us  homewards  to  its 

snug  and  genial  glow. 

'Twas  there  we  outgrew  childhood — depend 
ing  on  each  other's  whims, 
Ah!  those  golden,  happy  days  of  youth  too 

oft  my  eye  bedims, 
For  the  heart  she  won  from  wildness,  from 

amidst  the  western  plains — 
Can  still  feel  the  old,  old  sorrow,  whilst  her 

image  there  remains. 

For  Elsie,  my  sweet  comrade,  left  her  play 
mate  all  forlorn, 
0  'ercome  with  grief  we  parted — ere  her  spirit 

fled  that  morn ; 
My  happy  youth  lay  buried:  for  it  found  a 

grave  with  hers, 
Up  in  the  lonely  shelter,  where  she  lies  among 

the  firs. 


42          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  REMEDY 

(Written  one  day  after  the  sinking  of  the 
Transport  Ship  "TUSCANIAN",  Febru 
ary  6th;  loss  210  lives.) 

America  awakens  to  the  stern  relentless  blight, 
Which  travels  'neath  the  surface  like  a  shadow 

in  the  night. 
Which  expells  her  mordant  fury  at  Ships  with 

human  freight, 
Disclosing  to  the  World  at  large,  the  Kaiser's 

fear  and  hate. 

For  Cowards  are  a  breed  who  show  when  cor 
nered  in  a  hole, 

These  signs  of  desperation  that  have  gone  be 
yond  control. 
Who  do  not  choose  the  weapons,  that  will  give 

•  a  breathing  space, 

To  think  out  Hell's  devices,  that  will  treach 
ery  replace. 

The   "HUNS"   and   all   they  represent   are 

Poltroons  at  their  best, 
(Children  and  Women,  sacred  things,  which 

linger  in  each  breast) 
Are  altogether  lacking  with  these  savages  at 

War, 
In  their  role  of  World  Dictators,  which  they 

are  fighting  for! 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          43 


Their  savage  inhumanity  in  Gas,  and  Liquid 

Fire! 
Are  but  the  weapons  madmen  use  to  bolster 

her  Empire, 
Her  spies  are  scattered  in  our  midst,  with 

Bombs,  and  Dynamite, 
To  emphasize  her  creed — ''that  we  will  rule 

the  World  by  might!" 

When  Rats  infest  our  Cellars,  do  we  pause  or 
hesitate — 

To  justify  the  means  we  take — so  we  exter 
minate  ? 

So  let  us  use  the  Scapel,  if  we  must,  to  cure 
disease, 

So  give  the  World — a  cleanly  World ;  washed 
in  Democracies! 


44          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  AUTHOR'S  BROTHER 

("TEDDY"   of   the    Canadian   Forces) 
Well,  here  I  am — just  turned  Eighteen! 
Three  years  spent  ' '  Over  here ! ' ' 
And  what  a  little  Hell  its  been ; 
Each  day  seemed  like  a  year. 
I  fought  at — Ypres,  Somme,  and  Marne. 
And  tried  to  do  my  "Bit" 
So  why  extend  the  blasted  yarn? 
Like  others — I've  been  hit! 

I've  been  a  month  without  a  bath. 

But  sometime  in  "God's  Grace," 

I'll  chase  the  "Cootie's"  and  my  wrath, 

From  off  my  whiskered  face ! 

My  socks  have  stuck  like  hardened  glue, 

Upon  my  blister 'd  feet. 

I've  had  the  Measals,  Grip,  and  "FLU," 

Besides — but  why  repeat? 

I've  slept  in  Mud,  and  driving  rain, 
And  froze  in  "Sentry  Go," 
But  I  would  do  it  all  again 
With  pleasure,  "Don't  cher  know." 
I  didn't  miss  my  schooling  much — 
I  've  learn 't  a  great  deal  more ! 
About  the  things,  school-books  don't  touch- 
Facts  gotten  in  this  war. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          45 


OFFER  ALL! 

Do  you  wish  to  be  an  "Outer" 
With  a  brand  upon  your  brow — 
Known  as  nothing  but  a  "Spouter" 
Than  a  fighting  Soldier  now? 

Do  you  wish  to  have  your  neighbor, 
Look  the  other  way,  with  scorn — 
As  he  goes  to  fight,  or  labor, 
A'rnt  you  'shamed  that  that  you  were 
born? 

Is  it  worth  your  while  to  settle 
Selfishly  in  lazy  ease — 
While  your  Brotherhood's  true  mettle 
is  now  tested  Over-Sea's? 

There  is  one  way  to  redemption! 
To  redeem  your  Craven-Soul. 
Offer  all !  without  exemption, 
Join  "OLD  GLORY'S"  honor  roll. 


46          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  CALL  OF  THE  BLOOD 

A  Woman  is  a  prey  to  every  man, 
He  works  his  will  upon  her  if  he  can, 
His,  is  an  instinct  that  just  burns  within, 
More  oft  he  would  do  right,  than  really  sin. 

It  is  that  close  proximity  of  sex, 

Which  enters  in  his  blood,  and  wrecks 

His  good  resolves.     From  then  his  fashioned 

will, 
Conforms  to  but  a  Hunter  for  a  Thrill. 

Men  strive  to  cover  with  a  smooth  veneer, 
Their  passions — which  would  otherwise   ap 
pear. 

Unconsciously  they  strive  to  do  their  best 
To  conquer  their  true  cravings  in  the  breast. 

But  Young,  or  Old,  and  soon,  or  late  they  feel 
The  sweet  temptation  of  the  Sex  appeal. 
Conventions,  Ethics,  Ritual,  and  all 
Are  soon  forgotten  in  their  primal  fall. 

The  aftermath,  and  consequence  becomes 
The  future  scourge,  that  intellect  benumbs. 
Their  conscience  then  becomes  their  nemesis. 
Pursuing  them  for  each  adventured  kiss. 

rTis  then,  when  he,  the  man,  can  introspect 
Beholding  each  disgrace  he  can  expect, 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         47 

That  he  to  former  passions  will  revert, 
And  wishing  it,  will  all  his  pow'r  exert. 

So  why  blame  him  the  wanton  bliss  he  takes? 
He  but  obeys  the  call  of  blood  that  makes 
Another  Semblance  of  Diviner  rule, 
He  would  be  wise,  but  passions  make  him — 
Fool. 


Sfi 


48          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

"BATTING  400" 

"Much  too  much,  is  much  too  much" 
And  half-way  measures — worse! 
Either  one  of  these  can  touch 
A  great  despair,  or  curse. 

To  do  a  thing,  just  do  it  well, 
And  never  stop  half-way, 
But  do  it  so  your  neighbors  tell 
'You  made  your  work,  your  play!' 

Confront  your  conscience  with  a  song, 

And  let  excuses — die. 

We  guarantee  it  won't  be  long 

Before  Ill-Fortunes-fly. 

By  taking  with  a  smile — rebuff! 

You  beat  it  from  the  start, 

Discouragement,  is  just  the  stuff 

That  makes  it  soon  depart. 

The  great  mistake,  is  nursing  it ! 

Until  it  is  too  late — 

No  real  Man  ever  tries  to  quit, 

When  hopes — evaporate. 

Its  holding  on,  and  plodding  en, 
That  makes  us  realize 
That  no  reward  is  ever  won 
With  Brain,  of  coward  size. 

We  must  advance  our  own  career, 
In  every  way  we  can, 
But  do  it  so  we  make  it  clear 
We  got  there — like  a  MAN. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          49 


THRU  A  MIST 

Go  to  the  room  of  mem'ries! 

There  in  its  snug  confines, 
Live  me  again  its  stories, 

Read — but,  between  the  lines. 

Tell  me  of  my  ambitions! 

Leading  always  to  you ; 
Show  me  again  my  visions — 

That  never  once  came  true! 

Point — the  premature  grayness 
On  my  young  weary  head. 

Look — for  the  old-time  gayness, 
E  're  my  last  hope  had  fled ! 

Search — and  you  will  discover 
A  thin  dim  trail  of  a  Ghost, 

That  had  once  been  your  lover, 
Who  wanted  you  most. 


50          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

A  CHRISTMAS  POEM 

("The  Mendicant") 

Two  thousand  Christians  turn  away 

From  that  old  pleading  voice, 
A  little  help  that  would  allay — 

A  heart  that  might  rejoice. 

Her  crippled  limbs,  and  garments  torn, 

And  tattered  hair  of  gray, 
Should  merit  something  more  than  scorn 

From  hypocrites  of  clay. 

Perhaps  had  they  beheld  a  friend 

In  window  high  above, 
They  might  have  changed  their  mental  trend, 

And  shown  some  Christian  love. 

Perhaps  these  same  on  Xmas  morn 
Have  preached  the  "Golden  Rule," 

Among  themselves,  for  those  forlorne — 
And  then  the  next  day — cool. 

Behold,  this  world  is  but  a  street, 

Searched  by  a  living  eye, 
That  sees  each  goodly  thought  retreat, 

That  might  have  mounted  high. 

Some  day  as  she — as  mendicants — 

We  will  death's  call  obey, 
And  tremble  'neath  that  God-like  glance, 
Before  'tis  turned  away. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          61 

AN  ACTOR'S  PRAYER 

Remove  this  grim  uncertainty 
That  sticks  to  me  persistently, 
And  let  me  know  if  future  months 
Will  be  as  moneyless — at  once ! 

It  seems  the  world 's  hard  luck  is  wrapped 
Into  a  bundle,  and  is  strapped 
Securely  on  my  back.    I  fear — 
So  little  have  I  had  this  year. 

Your  Holy  Word  states  that  you  give 
Each  soul  a  certain  span  to  live, 
And  with  it  all  resources  found 
Upon  this  fruitful  earth  around. 

If  this  be  so  (I  doubt  it  not) 
I  Ve  searched  for  wealth  in  every  spot, 
Not  greedy  like,  but  just  enough 
To  live  myself  and  stand  a  touch. 

But  honestly,  it  seems  the  earth 
With  wire  fences  is  begirth. 
And  what  is  not  is  mortgaged  so 
There's  not  a  free  square  foot  below. 

Among  the  boys  I  travel  with 
We  think  three  squares  a  day  a  myth. 
So,  lacking  what  we  all  once  felt, 
Each  a^tor  tightens  up  his  belt. 

So  having  prayed,  I  now  desist, 
Depending  on  you  to  subsist. 
And  if  I  get  more  than  my  share, 
111  willingly  have  some  to  spare. 

AMEN! 


52          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


"GETTING  NEXT" 

(A  Truism  in  Slang) 
It 's  funny,  when  I  think  of  it, 
How  often  I  have  made  a  hit 

With  some  "Swell  Dame," 
And  felt  "lit  up"  and  all  aglow, 
Just  ' '  Aces  high ' '  when  ' '  spilling  dough ' ' 

To  liven  up  the  game. 
But  after  "cashing  in"  "my  bit," 
Somehow  the  loving  didn't  go — 

The  game  was  not  the  same. 

"Yours  truly"  kept  his  flame. 
What  followed — don't  you  know? 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          63 


QUESTIONS 

Do  you  find  life  all  askew — 

As  I  do? 

Can  you  gauge  that  gnawing  ache 
As  you  flit  around  and  take 

Pleasures  due? 
Isn't   something  lacking,   dear, 

Just  a  fear, 

That  the  emptiness  around 
Might  be  filled  if  he,  were  found 

And  was  near? 

Shall  our  content  be  divorced, 

Perhaps  lost? 

Going   through   life's   darkened   days, 
When  by  slaying  pride 's  false  ways 

Reap  the  cost? 
Life  has  little  here  below, 

So  why  throw 

Away — happiness  you'll  miss — 
When  by  holding  on  to  this. 

Feel  it  grow! 


54          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


SKIRMISHING 

She's  an  interesting  woman, 
As  she  trips  along  the  street, 

With  a  look  that's  truly  human, 
Almost  good  enough  to  eat ! 

She  observed  him  scrutinizing — 
Well,  let's  say  her  dainty  feet, 

And  a  critic,  recognizing, 
Cast  a  smile  on  him  so  sweet. 

He,  of  course,  enraptured  greatly, 
For  it  nattered  his  conceit, 

Cooly  reached  her  side  sedately 
As  a  conqueror  complete. 

Then  she  put  a  question  bluntly, 
Which  he  begged  her  to  repeat, 

Then  he  murmured  "Why,  it's  Sun- 

day," 
And  he  fled  in  full  retreat. 

L  'Envoi. 
Now,  the  obvious  deduction 

Is  to  be  shy  and  discreet; 
Never  seek  an  introduction 

To  a  lady  on  the  street. 


KHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  KEASON          55 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PURPLE  COW 

With  apologies  to  Burgess  Johnson   (?) 

A  man  I  knew  expressed  his  view 
About  some  cows  of  purple  hue ; 
Astonished  I  drank  in  his  words, 
For  he  had  seen  them  roam  in  herds. 

I  nearly  had  a  fit  when  he, 
This  statement  made  so  earnestly, 
For  all  my  friends  had  never  seen 
A  cow  beyond  a  reddish  green. 

What  could  I  do,  what  could  I  say, 
Except  in  fancy  flit  away 
To  where  those  mangy  purple  cows 
On  violet  grass  did  play  and  brouse  ? 

If  legends  hold  their  potent  spell, 
In  twenty  thousand  years  from  now, 
Let  those  who  hear,  in  turn  retell 
The  story  of  the  purple  cow. 


56          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


"THE  LESSON" 

An  old  vintage  of  wine, 
And  a  girl,  and  youth, 

And  her  future  is  mine, 
by  lies  mixed  with  truth. 

Be  she  stubborn  or  coy, 
Speak  soothing  and  low, 

'Tis  she  feels  the  same  joy, 
You  would  have  her  know 

But  should  she  resist, 
As  most  maidens  do; 

Do  your  best  to  enlist, 
Her  sympathy  too. 

This  done,  you  may  kiss  her, 

(Once  over  the  line) 
You  have  her  surrender 
Just  finish  your  wine. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          67 


WRITING  TO  "UNCLE  SAM" 

I  am  goin'  "Uncle  Samuel" 
To  the  maddened,  fightin '  front. 
Playing  myself,  in  the  gamble 
That  will  keep  me  in  the  hunt. 
After  Kaiser  Bill,  the  Villin' 
Who  is  sacraficin'  Lives, 
So  I'll  guess  you'll  find  me  willin' 
While  Democracy  survives. 

Send  me  "Over  There"  directly, 

For  my  feet  refuse  to  cool, 

And  I'll  show  them  "HUNS"  exactly 

That  I  ain't  nobody's  fool, 

But  a  cool  resourceful  Yankee, 

With  a  little  "Bone-to-pick" 

So  its  up  to  you  to  frankly 

Get  "Yours  Truly"  over  quick. 

With  a  little  help,  and  practice, 
I'll  do  all  the  active  stuff, 
For  between  ourselves — the  fact — is 
I'm  sure  hank 'ring  to  get  rough. 
With  the  Onery  Cuss  from  Berlin. 
Who  has  fairly  "Got  my  Goat" 
That's  why  I'm  trying  to  get  in 
In  fact — that's  why  I  wrote. 

Now  its  up  to  you  to  hustle, 
For  I  guess  ten  million  more 


58          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

American's  with  muscle 
Want  to  get  into  this  War. 
We  're  a  bunch  of  willin '  Tartar 's ! 
Who'll  stay,  "by  Gum"  or  win — 
So  its  up  to  you  to  start — us 
On  the  first  Lap  to  Berlin. 


ffi 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  PROPHECY 

Now — they  tell  us  that  Berliners — 

Have  not  seen  the  Stars,  and  Stripes! 

Well,  we  claim  that  as  beginners 

They  will  see  a  million  types 

Of  the  Flag  we  call  "OLD  GLORY" 

In  a  very  little  while, 

That  will  be  another  story 

That  will  make  our  Children  smile. 


Now,  we  have  a  faint  suspicion, 
Like  our  Comrades,  far,  and  near 
That  we'll  see  more  than  a  Vision 
On  German  Soil,  within  a  Year' 
For  our  Soldier  Boys  are  trying 
Like  grim  Devils,  to  get  in, 
From  the  way  the  "Huns"  are  flying 
They  will  follow  to  Berlin. 

Now  to  us  it  stands  to  reason, 
That  the  Populace  will  gasp, 
And  it  will  not  be  high  treason, 
If  these  questions — they  will  ask — 
"What  is  that  Flag,  above  Potsdam?" 
"That  Mam — ends  Autocracy" 
"It  represents  our  "UNCLE  SAM" 
"And  gives  GOD'S  LIBERTY." 


60          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  "BON  VIVANT" 

The  world  is  full  of  ne'er  do  wells, 

The  kind  who  wait  on  chance, 

Who  preach  that  something  may  turn  up 

To  help  them  to  advance, 

With  eyes  of  pictured  Day-Dreams 

And  hope  forever  bright, 

With  castles  built  if  realized, 

And  then  to  wake — its  night. 

Their  airs  are  always  jaunty, 
Their  clothes  are  neat  or  spruce, 
Their  manners  most  exceptional 
And  genteel,  you  deduce ; 
You  meet  them  with  a  hand-clasp, 
And  show  perhaps  delight, 
Until  they  try  to  borrow  ' '  five ! ' ' 
Just  then — you  say  good-night. 

You'll  meet  them  in  your  business  hour, 

As  wasters  of  your  time ; 

You'll  hear  them  plan  your  sure  success, 

And  show  you  how  to  climb, 

They'll  even  condescend — perhaps, 

To  prove  their  ideas  right, 

And  smoke  your  best  cigars  meanwhile, 

Until  they  say — good-night. 

You  watch  them  go  with  thankful  heart, — 
Yet  envy  them,  the  while, 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          61 

And  wonder  why  you  have  to  slave 

AVhile  they,  surpass  in  style  ? 

You  grumble,  and  show  discontent, 

Until  your  food's  in  sight — 

You  dine — and  find  your  day-time  friend, 

Your  servitor — that  night. 


62          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


'TIS  KIND  TO  REMEMBER 

The  future  seems  all  dark,  sweetheart, 
With  you  gone  from  my  side — 
I  wake  at  night  with  sudden  start, 
And  know  my  dreams  have  lied. 

I  miss  your  sweet  tempestuous  ways, 
Your  scarlet  smiling  lips, 
Your  twinkling  eyes,  where  Devils  raise 
The  Hell — when  mankind  slips. 

I  see  again  your  twisting  glide 
As  your  form  comes  to  mine, 
And  feel  my  passions  overtried — 
Conflict  in  Lovers'  clime. 

You  smile  and  raise  your  lips  to  kiss, 
We  steal  each  glance  before, 
Then  draw  our  suffocating  bliss 
For  strength,  to  gather  more. 

'Tis  then  that  mem'ry  mocks  my  joy, 
I  live  my  dreams  again, 
And  feel  myself  Fate 's  latest  toy, 
Who  played  his  soul  in  vain. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          63 


"THE  MIRACLE" 

(To  "Straw  Lady") 

My  life  was  empty,  all  things  came  amiss. 
And  clouds  by  day  developed  into  night. 
Nor  blazoned  hope,  though  there,  was  seen 

aright. 
What  could  be  wrong?    Where  was  the  song 

of  bliss? 
Then  through  it  all,  a  faint  thin  penciled 

light, 

Sent  thrilling  rays  where  all  had  been  so  dark. 
And  dormant  love  awakened  to  the  spark, 
Ignited  through  the  magic  of  my  sight. 

You  came!  "Dear  girl  of  gold"  unheralded, 
And  saw  my  plight  in  one  swift  maiden 

glance. 

Then  pityingly  all  conventions  shed, 
Led  me  to  heaven  by  the  merest  chance. 
Now  with  its  portals  opened  by  a  kiss — 
Will  future  time  re-emphasize  us  this? 


64          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A   PASSIONATE   HOUR 

To  have  lived  in  your  presence  for  one  short 

hour, 

And  to  feel — as  I  did,  your  warm  kisses, 
These  gave  me  the  strength  no  time  could  o'er 

pow'r 
For  they  furnished  my  future  with  blisses. 

But  joy  so  'tis  said,  is  soon  followed  by  pain, 

So  you  gentle  tryant,  refused  me 

The  sweets  from  your  lips  as  I  sought  them 

again, 
Saying  "Boy!  you  have  simply  amused  me." 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          65 


EXIT  THE  SPORT 

The  real  final  showdown  has  come,  boys, 
I'm  ready  to  face  the  unknown! 
I  have  harvested  sorrows  and  joys, 
And  am  taking  the  journey  alone. 
The  friends  whom  I  had,  have  all  vanished ; 
They  scattered  as  quick  as  the  tin. 
They  were  not  around  when  I  famished; 
I  guess  it's  'bout  time  to  cash  in. 

Of  course,  like  a  fool  who  has  squandered 
The  best  part  of  him  in  night-life, 
I've  known  many  hearts  that  I  plundered — 
But,  thank  God,  no  other  man 's  wife ! 
I've  tasted  the  pleasure  that's  stolen, 
Much  sweeter  at  each  new  rebuff, 
Till  the  rose  leaves  fell — but  the  polen, 
Accomplished, — I  cried  'twas  enough. 

I've  drank  and  caroused  with  the  members 
Of  Life's  seamy  side,  as  the  high. 
Yet  I  doubt  if  one  now  remembers 
The  Sport,  who  let  no  one  go  "shy." 
But,  hell,  what's  the  use  in  repining? 
The  best  lights  must  always  burn  out. 
My  long  suit  I  guess  was  not  whining, 
It  doesn  't  seem  right  for  a  ' '  scout. ' ' 

Yet  somehow  I  think  I'd  feel  better 
If  these  were  the  things  that  oppressed! 


66          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

The  man,  that  I  was,  till  I  met  Her! 
Is  locked  pretty  tight  in  my  breast. 
It's  a  custom  to  make  mere  surmises, 
We  're  all  apt  to  mock,  laugh  or  grin. 
Each  heart  guards  a  picture  it  prizes — 
I  guess  it 's  'bout  time  to  cash  in ! 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          67 


AND  THEN  "MR.  RAVCOVSKY" 
WAS  INTERRUPTED 

Ve  are  not  millionaries, 

Toe  ve  teals  mit  trapery  vares, 

And  ve  hope  sum  tay,  to  crapple  mit  the 

millions ; 

It  ish  frum  schmall  peginnings, 
And  toes  honish  peeznish  sinnings, 
Tat  ter  vorld  vill  sum  tay  calls  ours —    , 

vealthy  shiltrens. 

Mine  broader,  ant  mineself , 
Ve  schticts  not  on  the  shelf, 
But  fills  our  shop,  mit  goots  for  Ladies'  uses; 
And  ter  shentlemen  has  veil, 
Mit  our  goots  ve  also  sell — 
Toe  rivals  states,  ve  are  stocked  mit  supter- 
rooches. 

Vel!  vat  ish  peezneez — if 

Ve  ton't  makes  prices  schtiff? 

Vich  proofs  ve  sells  much  petter  goots,  than 
Levy's, 

Tay  unterselts  mit  trash, 

Vich  like  is  callet  hash, 

Vat  beoples  puy,  ant  knose  not  vat  tay  re 
ceives  ! 

Ten  dares  Isaacstein — pesites 
Vat  in  his  carritch  rites — 


68          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  SEASON 

He  tolt  me  how  it  vash  he  makes  his  monish ! 

He  sate  dat  I  vood  pe 

Shust  has  rich  sum  tay  has  he 

Tat  I  vood  mineself — make  mineself  astonish ! 

Tat  I  can  veil  peleef, 

Me !  he  voot  not  deceef , 

For  he  knose  mine  hetpeice,  ish  above  mine 

shoulter ; 

Tat  ish  vy  I  schmilit  so, 

Ven  toes  Levy's  vish  to  know 

How  much  I  vill  pe  vorth,  ven  I  comes  olter  ? 

Peleef  me — Mr.  Cohen! 
Ven  ve  frum  Europ  goin, 
Our  gabital  vas  but  our  peezneez  inkschtints, 
And  now!  pesites  our  Chulery — 
In  gonvidents,  not  foolery — 
Ve  holts  ter  mortgatch  on  much  lants,  and 
piltinx ! 

And  ven  goalectors  cumps, 

To  askit  for  schmall  sumps, 

For  synagawks,  and  sharities,  and  vidows; 

Ve  gif  twice  oafer  vat 

Tay  frum  der  Levy's  got, 

But  shoot  tay  never  gif s — ve  acts  not  dittoes ! 

Pecause  ve  knose  dat  ve 

Ven  gifing  sharitie — 

Vill  at-fer-tize  our  names,  in  all  de  papers; 

Vich  ish  a  leetal  price, 

Ven  Beoples  sace — ' '  how  nice ! 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         69 

Ravcovsky  ish — Der  leeting  Chewish 
trapers  ? ' ' 

I  sate — how  vonce  alrety- 


(Vats  date  you  sate — Mish  Betty? 

(A  Shentlemen  hash  cum  frum  Mr.  Simons') 

Von  min-it  Mr.  Cohen! 

I  vill  not  long  be  goin' 

It  ish  a  breasant  for  mine  vife — off  tiamonts ! 

EXIT 


ifi 


70          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


TRY  IT  OUT 

Funny,  ain't  it,  when  you  grin, 

To  see  the  other  fellow  do  the  same? 
Yer  kind  of  feel  him  comin'  in, — 
To  help  you  carry  on  the  game. 

It  surely  gets  your  nanny  when 
You  shuffle  thru  a  grouchy  bunch, 
And  see  what  ought  to  be  real  men 
Each  wearing  out  a  hard  luck  hunch ! 

The  kind  that  figure  at  the  top, 
Are  always  rubbin'  in  the  grin. 
It's  wound  up  so  'twon't  ever  stop, 
It  just  keeps  ropin'  in  the  Tin. 

Get  next;  it's  up  to  you  to  win. 

It  ain  't  no  fun  to  always  lose ; 

Make  up  your  mind  right  now  to  grin; 

You've  had  the  dope— now  go  and  choose. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          71 


PLAYING  THE  GAME 

You  cast  aside  a  heart, 

To  gain  a  bliss. 

You  spurned  a  life's  devotion 

For  a  kiss. 

You  revelled  in  the  thought 

Of  your  desire, 

Until  your  own  emotion 

Killed  the  fire. 

The  ' '  lure ' '  was  lacking  soon, 

Delightful  sin. 

Keturned  to  you  and  rendered 

Discipline. 

Chastened  you  sought  my  arms, 

Fraily  you  came. 

My  first  "Love  I  re  tendered 

With  my  name. 


72         RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


ODD  VERSES 

I  wanted  a  "Boche"  and  I  got  one, 
Right  there  at  the  end  of  my  gun. 
I  was  pulling  the  trigger — 
When  this  'Hun'  of  a  ' Slicker' 
Yelled :  ' '  Why  shoot  a  '  Son  of  a  Gun  ? ' 

I  herewith  take  my  pen  in  hand, 
To  greet  you,  Gen'ral  Pershing. 
I  like  you  in  the  chief  command, 
And  like  the  way  you're  thrashing 
The  brutal  "Huns" 
With  Gas  and  Guns. 
'Tis  the  only  argument 
Your  "Uncle  Samuel"  sent 
That  the  Germans  understand. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          73 


READING  THE  FUTURE 

Yours  are  the  Eyes  that  promise  all — 
The  happiness  I  need. 
With  Pow'r  to  make  me  rise,  or  fall, 
According  how  I  read? 

The  Soul  I  see  within  them  Dear, 
Fulfills  the  ecstasy. 
I  found,  when  you  in  dreams  appear 
To  pique  expectancy! 

And  yet  at  times,  I  see  the  glance 
Of  due  appraisal  too. 
A  Winter  to  my  heart-romance 
Which  idolizes  you. 

But  this  may  come  from  ignorance, 
Of  what  they  may  portend? 
Or  your  constructive  innocence 
To  merely  be  a  friend ! 

But  what  they  mean,  or  what  they  speak, 
Tho'  this  be  eloquent — 
'Twill  not  deter  me  when  I  seek 
Your  spark  of  sentiment. 

My  faith,  and  Love,  will  bring  reward, 
Tho'  you  try  artifice — 
And  Hope,  will  lead  me  to  your  hoard 
Of  shy  discovered  bliss. 


74         RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


APOLOGIES  TO  KIPLING 

A  man  there  was,  who  felt  a  glow, 

Even  as  you  and  I, 

As  the  winsome  face  of  a  girl,  passed  by; 

With  a  sweetness  strange,  which  could  but 

grow 

Into  the  dream  of  his  long  ago, 
E'en  tho'  the  grave  be  nigh. 

So  he  cast  about  in  his  troubled  brain, 
Even  as  you  and  I, 

But  fruitless  it  was,  and  with  hopeless  sigh, 
Did  recognize  that  the  old,  old  pain — 
Had  warped  him  so — that  naught  could  re 
gain, 
No  matter  how  he  try 

So  the  man  went  on  his  way,  nor  gave, 
Even  as  we  might  do, 
A  further  thought  to  the  eyes  of  blue ; 
' '  For  what  is  the  use,  that  I  should  crave 
When  all  my  best,  lies  in  the  grave, 
And  youth — none  can  renew?" 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          75 


THE  DREGS  OF  LIFE 

Betwixt  the  pages  of  a  letter  old, 

A  crested  withered  flower  lies, 

The  oft  thumbed  sheets,  the  ancient  perfumes 

hold, 
'Twas  once  a  rose  bedewed  with  tears  and 

sighs, 
That  joined  her  fragrant  breast. 

Full  many  moons  have  rolled  since  troth  was 

vowed, 

The  springy  strides  of  youth  have  passed, 
Keplaced  by  palsied  frame,  that  years  have 

bow'd, 

A  figure  lone  who  sees  the  sad  contrast, 
'Twixt  fears  and  this  unrest. 

The  treasured  loved  one  whom  this  rose 

adorned, 

Awaits  him  in  another  sphere, 
And  though  the  tyrant  death,  his  union 

scorned, 

Defiantly  he  woo'd  her  on  the  bier, 
A  broken  heart  confessed. 

Though  form  be  shrivelled  as  yon  withered 

flower, 

His  heart  within — burns  ever  bright : 
And  when  it  comes,  that,  which  is  Heaven's 

dower, 

To  heart  aweary  of  this  mortal  night, 
Will  he  spurn  Heaven 's  best  ? 


76          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


"THE  STRAW  LADY" 

It  was  Winter  when  I  left  you, 
It  was  Spring  when  I  returned, 
With  the  mellowness  of  Summer, 
When  I — your  form  discerned. 

How  you  beautified  the  landscape 
With  such  eyes,  the  bluest  known, 
And  no  mortal  was  more  welcome 
Than  you — who  came  alone. 

Were  the  birds  through  you  enchanted? 
Did  the  flowers  know  your  tread? 
Why  did  the  sun's  expiring  beams 
Suffuse  your  Golden  head? 

Was  the  homestead  newly  garnished  ? 
Was  the  brooklet  laughing  loud? 
Why  did  the  flowers  in  bright  array 
Uplight  with  beauty  proud  ? 

Was  it  because  we  met  again 
With  a  deeper  Love  for  each? 
Your  lips  are  trembling  with  the  tale, 
Oh !  Come  my  love  and  teach. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         77 


WITHERED  FAME! 

There  is  a  field  of  wind-tossed  flowers 

Somewhere — 
Where  SHE,  awaits  in  virginal  hours, 

Somewhere ! 
In  my  mind,  she's  the  goal  of  my   future 

aim, 
And  the  toil,  and  the  troubles,  that  lead  me 

to  Fame 

Are  nothing — if  she  will  not  gather  the  same 
Into  her  care. 

There's  a  field  all  covered  with  snow 

Somewhere ! 

Where  the  maid  of  my  dreams  is  buried  so 
low, 

Somewhere ! 
There — my  tears  will  fall  on  the  ground  that 

she  trod, 

There — my  lips  shall  press,  yea  that  cruel  sod, 
Till  I  meet  her  again  in  the  Kingdom  of  God, 

Somewhere ! 


78         KHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  PASSING 

My  soul  was  in  the  eyes,  which  looked 

Upon  expiring  day, 
The  vanished  Sun,  had  been  rebuked 

For  going  on  his  way, 
The  Doctors  whispered — as  I  lay 

Upon  my  bed  of  pain, 
I  wonder  what  they  had  to  say? 

Would  I  see  dawn  again? 

My  rosy  Nurse,  pulls  down  the  shade, 

(The  light  seems  going  fast) 
Yet  somehow  I  am  not  afraid — 

(This  time  'twill  be  the  last) 
Your  face  Dear  Heart,  pervades  my  Soul. 

Inspiring  courage  there, 
What  makes  each  Visitor,  condole? 

They  sob  as  if  they  care ! 

Sweetheart,  how  strange  their  bearing  seems, 

Do  I  deserve  their  tears  ? 
Or  have  I  seen  these  in  my  dreams, 

Imagining  their  fears? 
They  could  not  know  that  You,  and  Me, 

Had  vowed  that  though  apart, 
We'd  Live,  and  Love,  'till  finally 

Our  Hearts,  beat  Heart  to  Heart. 

Then  why  these  fears  about  my  Death  ? 
Why  is  the  Boom  so  still? 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         79 

Those  Doctors  hang  above  my  breath 

(I'll  bet  I  owe  some  Bill?) 
Your  latest  Photo,  is  too  real ! 

GREAT  GOD !  You  seem  to  weep ; 
There  must  be  some  mistake — I'll  feel 

Much  better  after  Sle-e-p? 

L  'envoi 
AT  DAWN 

His  hands  still  held  a  Photograph, 

The  Dawn  was  breaking  high, 
His  mouth  seemed  twisted  for  a  laugh; 

But  Death  had  been  too  sly. 


Sfi 


80          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  LOVE  SONG 

(To  F.  C.) 

The  roses  are  blooming,  the  clematis  too, 
0  come,  to  the  arbour  with  me ; 
And  there  sip  the  air  as  it  fragrant  blows  thru, 
For  Summer  is  fleeting  and  man's  years  are 

few; 
Come !  come !  to  your  sweet  destiny  ? 

A  story,  I'd  pour  in  your  pink  longing  ears; 
Can'st  guess  what  its  purport  can  be? 
The  love  of  a  heart  for  the  on-coming  years, 
To  shatter  misgivings,  to  dissipate  fears, 
And  strength  and  devotion  to  thee? 

That  unspoken  signal,  the  blush  on  your 

cheek,    . 

Is  answer  enough  on  your  part; 
Your  words  may  be  lacking,  but  look!  I  will 

seek 
The  visible  treasures  from  whence  you  would 

speak, 
And  draw  the  sweet  "yes"  from  your  heart. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          81 

THE  RESCUE 

I  saw  her  on  the  sea  shore, 
When  the  tide  was  coming  in, 
Seeming  most  supremely  happy 
(That  is  judging  by  her  grin.) 

For  her  task  was  building  castles 
(Not  the  hackneyed  ones  of  air) 
With  the  flotsam  and  the  jetsam 
Which  the  waves,  too,  often  spare ! 

'Twas  a  work  of  weird  proportions, 
Which  her  chubby  fingers  built, 
With  deep  dungeons,  and  high  towers, 
And  grim  sentries,  at  the  tilt. 

Reck'd  the  builder  of  her  danger 
As  the  waves  rushed  to  her  feet? 
Judging  by  her  rapt  expression 
Her's  had  been  the  dryest  seat. 

Till  a  more  presumptuous  billow 
Knock 'd  her  castle  in  her  lap, 
Turn'd  her  topsy-turvy  likewise, 
Tho'  without  the  least  mishap! 

Ere  she  had  a  chance  to  wonder 
At  the  billow,  "Oh— so  rude!" 
She  was  crowing  most  delicious 
Into  ears  which  understood. 

How  she  hugged  and  kissed  me  fondly 
(Tho'  the  last  were  rather  wild) 
But  I  liked  them  and  repaid  them, 
For  the  sprite  was  my  own  child. 


82          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


POSTERITY'S  LOSS 

Immortal  verse  is  ofttimes  written 
Within  the  mystic  hours  of  night; 

And  strange-  to  say  they  come  unbidden, 
Chef-d 'oeuvres  of  poetic  flight. 

But  Morpheus  in  a  mood  unwilling, 
Denies  the  fruit  the  brain  evolved. 

The  coinage  of  the  poet's  milling, 
By  day  is  currency  desolved. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          83 


"TOO— LATE" 

It  is  night  there  ;  it  is  day  here. 
And  the   Homesteads — wrapped  in   gloom — 
Yet — not  wholly — see !  A  flame  clear : 
Brightens  up  a  topmost  room ! 
There  the  rafters  meet  the  sloping  roof. 
There   weird   shadows — come — and   go. 
There   the   boy  weighed   down — beneath   re 
proof — 
Was  wont  to  pour  his  woe. 

Nightly  is  the  lamp  relighted 
By  fingers  thin,  and  old — 
For  the  boy  mayhap — benighted 
Shall  this  loving  flame  behold? 
Nightly  is  he  thus  invited 
By  the  longing  mother — there — 
Who  would  see  her  boy  united 
To  the  tenor  of  her  prayer. 

It  is  night  here !  It  is  day  there ! 
And  the  sun  has  paled  the  flame 
Mark !  The  woman  with  the  gray  hair 
Bow'd — but  not  with  mortal  shame? 
See !  The  fingers  cold  and  rigid  meet 
As  if  just  clasped  in  pray'r! 
A  prayer  mayhap  incomplete.     .     .     . 
For  death!.  has  met  her  there. 


84          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

Years  and  years  of  soul  devotion. 

Did  the  naming  signal  bear. 

All  the  gamut  of  emotion 

Had  in  turn  been  in  its  flare. 

Had  received  her  aching — Longing — 

Halloed — Consecrated  Light ! 

In  which  her  soul  upward  songing 

Drew — her  outcast — from  the  night. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          85 


IN  MEMORIUM 

"PEG" 

Enwreathed  with  all  the  virtues  of  her  sex, 

She  lieth  cold  and  still — 

Yet  time  and  memory  now  bedecks 

Her  fame  with  truer  skill. 

This  tongue  had  oft  her  virtues  sang, 

Whilst  she,  yet  stood  beside, 

And  all  about  her  praises  rang 

As  one  who  grief  defied. 

And  now,  she  lieth  cold  and  still, 

Gone — ere  she  lived  her  span, 

Obeying  her  Creator's  will — 

Left  me — at  least — a  man. 


86          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  VOICE  FROM  THE  GUTTER 

"Gee,  but  Christians  are  a  bunch  of  Kidders, 
Especially  'round  Christmas  day. 
Dey  hand  out  de  gab,  and  dey  considers 
Dey  done  de  right  ting,  in  der  way. 
Dey  even  makes  a  point  to  get  us  kids, 
Tickled  to  death  with  Christmas  toys, 
And  dey  slings  a  dinner  dat  really  gives 
Us  Kids,  the  great  high  sign  of  joys." 

"Ah,  Gawd,  it  don't  seem  fair  dat  dese  high 

ginks 

Has  dese — What  we  gets  once  a  year. 
Gee,  wiz,  they's  always  filled  wid  Eats  and 

Drinks, 

Dey  don 't  know  emptiness  down  here ! 
I  often  tinks  wen  I  aint  got  a  bed 
On  winter  nights,  and  I  'm  all  cold ; 
If  dere  Gawd,  yep,  and  my  Gawd,  wished  me 

dead 
Because  I  didn't  have  their  gold?" 

"I  aint  de  only  kid  in  dis  old  town 

Dat  aint  got  fadders,  and  mudders  too. 

And  say, — we  help  each  other  wen  we  're  down 

Praps  taint  much,  but  it  sees  us  troo. 

We  ain't  no  Christians — for  dat's  but  a  word 

Ginks,  use  in  Bizness  nowadays ! 

We  ain't  got  eddication — 'tain't  occurred, 

We  goes  de  limit,  dere  we  stays." 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         87 

' '  Dey  won 't  do  nuttin '  for  us  ?    Shut  yer  jaw ! 

I  tinks  I  hear  the  gang  yell  out. 

I  guess  I  '11  stop — and  as  dey  says — withdraw. 

Because  you'se  got  me  dope,  no  doubt. 

So  trow  de  glad  hand  out  each  Christmas  day. 

You'll  find  de  bunch  dere  wid  bells  on. 

Praps  some   one  dere,  wid  coin  to  spare — 

will  pay 
For  udder  dinners  wen  dis  one's  done." 


tfi 


88          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THROUGH  FAILURE  TO  GOD 

Where  are  the  dreams  of  our  yesterday? 
Where  the  fruition  of  promised  years? 
Tell  me  the  climax,  be  it  what  it  may, 
Is  aught  accomplished  that  my  muse  cau  re 
pay? 
Speak,  tho'  my  heart  sears. 

Thus  questioned  the  spirit  "of  him"  did  re- 

piy, 

The  dreams  that  you  held  were  written  in  air, 
The  noblest  in  you,  alas,  did  soon  die, 
And  what  is  accomplished?  Is  told  by  your 

sigh, 
And  brow  lined  with  care. 

E'er  answer  had  ceased,  his  "best"  conquered 

him, 
He  knelt  and  he  offered  this  fruit  at  God's 

feet, 

Nor  offered  insulting  in  sheer  moments  whim, 
But  forceful  and  earnest  and  unborrowed  vim, 
"Gave  thanks  for  defeat." 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          89 


ITS  WORTH  WHILE 

Nothing's  gained  by  frowning; 
Life  is  always  crowning 
Them  who  smile. 
You  confer  a  present 
When  you're  acting  pleasant 
It's  worth  while. 

Never  think  you're  beaten 
Just  keep  on  repeatin' 
"I  must  smile." 
Fortune  so  arranges 
That  you  get  the  changes 
Up  to  style. 

You  have  seen  the  weather 
When  you  wished  it  better 
la  it  so? 

Then  the  sun  came  shining 
'Till  your  hope  was  climbing 
In  it's  glow. 

Don't  give  up,  keep  striving; 
Others  are  deriving  • 
From  your  smile. 
All  it's  joyful  sunlight 
Will  return  to  delight 
You  awhile. 


90          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  DESERTER'S  STORY 

Whar  yo  manners,  little  nigger? 
Wat  yo  standin'  grinnin'  at? 
Is  it  kase  I  ain't  de  figure 
Ob  a  landed  pluearat  ? 

R  admit  my  present  costume 
Would  discrepit  any  tramp 
Somethin'  like  a  homeless  mushroom 
R  hab  throbed  in  cold  and  damp. 

Days,  and  days  r  had  bin  walkin' 
Cross  de  Californy  sands, 
Wid  no  mate  to  shay  ma  talkin' 
Sept  the  skies  an  lonely  lands. 

An  dese  tatters,  that  war  blue  once 
Fo'r  left  the  " golden  gates" 
Am  as  grey — an  dat  fo'  some  months 
As  mar  welcome  back  to  "States." 

Yer  'r  foght  fo'  Uncle  Sam,  Boy. 
Many  weeks  in  febered  swamps 
An '  hab  bin  mar  captains  enboy 
Tacking  ulticums  to  camps. 

It  war  when  r  bruff  conditions 
To  a  Philapino  chief 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          91 

Dat  r  habed  de  first  subspicions 
Dat  r  oberstabed  mar  leaf. 

She  war  sweetest  of  all  wenches, 
Dat  mar  nigger  eyes  did  seen! 
Lodin  rifles  in  de  trenches, 
For  de  fightin'  Philapine. 

Uncle  Sam,  an  army  rations, 
R  f ogot  day  eber  was ! 
R  war  just  plum  full  of  passions 
(Dat  is  wat  coon  lub,  soon  does.) 

Day,  bar  day,  r  tole  her  zactly 
How  mar  lub  fo  her  jist  growed — 
Wich  she  didn't  think  unlackly 
Leastwise  so  her  actions  showed. 

Tho  fo  sure  r  had  fogot  ter 
Say,  we  spoke  most  wid  r  hans, 
Tho'  at  times — we  hadn't  gotta 
(Lub  fines  ways  all  understands.) 

Den  at  last  r  dream  war  broken; 
An  the  next  act  war  night-mare ! 
An  agen  when  r  war  woken — 
R  war  in  mar  regments  care. 

All  de  boys  frum  Ike,  to  Jacob, 
Kinder  looked  d  odder  way — 
Meanin  ziff  r'd  sholy  wake-up 
War  the  night  am  always  day. 

R  were  not  kept  long  aguessin; 
First  r  knowed,  day  hab'd  me  dar 


92          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

Not  Afor  r  axed  a  bressin 

Ob  the  Lord,  dat  rules  mar  star. 

Thar  day  war  about  a  table, 
Genral,  on  de  middle  stool. 
Put  me  powful  mind  ob  Babel 
Just  lack  chillerns  abter  school. 

Then  de  genral,  axed  me  sharply 
"Why  r  habed  turned  traitor;  so — 
R  tole  him  the  truff  perzactly 
Jest  as  r  hab  let  yo  know. 

Apter  whis'prin  many  seconds 
Day  'greed  not  to  hab  me  shot! 
Wich  was  berry  kine  r  reckons 
(Kase  a  libe  coon's  worth  a  lot.) 

Sum  days  apter  r  were  lebin 
All  r  lubed  most  in  d  worl, 
Foe  mar  heart,  was  sorely  greebin' 
Fo  mar  Philopino  gurl. 

Wat  yo  sayin ',  little  nigger  ? 
Wish  to  tack  me  to  yo  mam? 
Sho  yo  jokin — didn't  yer  snigger? 
Wat 's  that !  Cum  from  Alabam  ? 

Am  yo  Mammy's  name  Elizer? 
Well  r  nebber ! — How  youse  growed ! 
I'se  yo  uncle!  dis  '11  s 'prise  her! 

Tho  fo  sho  r  might  hab  knowed; 

Tho-f o-sho-r-might-hab  knowed ! 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          93 


LAUNCHED  INTO  LIFE 

The  clouds  had  gathered  quickly  in  a  sky  of 

Southern  gloom, 

When  you,  and  I,  my  love,  strolled  by  the  sea ; 
The  sands  were  firm  beneath  our  feet,  the 

gulls  in  couples  flew, 
And  youth — was  in  our  hearts,  and  wild,  and 

free. 
A  barque  upon  the  waters,  drew  our  eyes 

along  its  crests, 

So  valiantly  she  ploughed  her  way  along, 
That  something  which  lay  hidden — 
Sprang  to  life  within  our  breasts, 
And  echoed  with  the  surf,  its  haunting  song. 

"We  marked  her  gallant  bearing,  as  the  seas 

swept  o'er  her  deck, 
If  you  remember — we  were  ill  at  ease? 
And  marvelled  why  the  typhoon,   failed  to 

make  of  her  a  wreck, 
And  heard  the  sailors'  cheers  across  the 

breeze ; 
We  watched  her  slowly  fading  with  a  "God's 

speed  on  our  lips," 

(Our  hands  together  met  as  if  by  chance) 
Then  launched  in  life  an  argosy  of  love — 

which  did  eclipse 
Its  rival,  for  the  fair  lands  of  romance. 


94          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


TWO  BIRTHDAYS 

'Twas  only  a  penny  horn,  on  which  to  play, 
A  birthday  present  yet  she  feels  as  gay 
As  any  daring  truant  stole  from  school : 
A  ricketty  old  table,  bears  her  weight, 
She's  perched  as  any  Goddess  in  her  state, 
Yet  more  secure,  which  does  not  prove  the 

rule. 

Her  poor  surroundings  cannot  stem  the  joy 
She  gathers  from  her  inexpensive  toy, 
Which  issues  blatant  noises  from  her  throat, 
Her  satisfaction  is  a  sight  to  see, 
Perhaps  it  rises  from  a  melody, 
Of  her  one  gift;  on  which  she  seems  to  dote. 

The  other  pampered  child,  has  more  than  this, 
No  squalor  taints  this  dainty  chiffoned  miss, 
Yet  tearful  discontent  o'er  spreads  her  face, 
Her  birthday  gifts  are  stacked  up  by  the 

score, 
While  toys,  of  great  import,  bestrew  the 

floor, 

In  fact  for  any  more,  there  is  no  place. 
The  gift  she  longs  for  most,  she  won't  con 
fess, 

Is  written  in  each  act,  in  deed  impress. 
A  sheer  abandonment  of  heyday  sport, 
Her  riches  seem  to  cast  a  gulf  between, 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          95 

The  free  wild  happiness  that  might  have  been, 
Had  she  been  nurtured  with  an  humbler  sort. 

These  verses  merely  tend  to  show  that  all 
That's  valued  most,  is  not  for  beck  and  call. 
For  one  has  everything,  the  other  naught: 
On  one  a  speck  of  dust  you'd  rarely  find, 
But  on  the  other,  dirt  of  every  kind. 
Then  who  shall  say  that  happiness  is  bought  ? 
One  holds  a  tryant's  sway  in  palace  grand, 
While  everything  is  her's  that  thoughts  com 
mand, 

With  willing  slaves  to  hearken  to  her  cry. 
The  other,  is  the  secret  guest  of  those 
Strange  folk,  who  wake  the  earth  with  each 

day's  close 
Bestowing  on  her  gifts,  which  none  can  buy. 


96          RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


DEEDS 

One,  never  minds  the  slipping  of  mere  pen 
nies,  thru  the  fingers ; 
They  are  the  sort  of  coin  of  which,  no  memory 

takes  count, 
Unlike,  the  nobler  metals,  they  seem  not,  true 

pleasure  bringers, 
Because  they  lack  the  properties,  which 

make  the  pulses  mount. 
Were  we  to  count  each  little  thought,  where 

good  was  meant  for  someone, 
Each  pleasant  smile,  and  hand  clasp,  which 

were  given  in  the  day, 
And  ere  sleep  closed  our  eyelids,  weigh  the 

fervent  "thank-you's"  hundrum 
'Tis  likely  truer  pleasure  would  our  humbler 

coin  repay. 

The  little  acts  are  noble,  when  'tis  seen  'twas 
heart  that  prompted, 

'Tis  the  sunshine  in  the  action,  that's  wel 
comed  e'er  the  coin, 

But  greater  gifts  are  valueless,  from  nature's 
crabbed  and  stunted, 

Who  did  not  wish  the  God-Speed,  from  the 

heart,  with  gift  to  join. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          97 


THE  ONLOOKER 

When  heart  is  young,  and  muscles  strong, 
And  limbs  uphold  your  sturdy  grace, 
And  sauciness,  and  flippant  song, 
Prevent  the  wrinkles  in  your  face. 
Ah  envy'd  youth,  we  watch  your  pranks. 
And  tho'  we  feel  at  times  the  sting, 
We  yet  acknowledge  with  our  thanks, 
The  ecstasy  that  makes  you  sing. 

We  hope  that  when  our  own  youth  bloomed, 
We  gave  the  pleasure,  which  you  give, 
And  pray  that  no  "old  Fogies"  fumed, 
Because  like  you,  we  tried  to  live. 
Then  sing  away — let  laughter  free 
Enlighten  all  your  bright  young  years, 
For  laughter  cannot  always  be, 
Your  cup  of  life — for  future  tears. 


98          RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


MEMORY'S  VISION 

(To  "Peg.") 

I  love  to  sit  in  the  gloaming, 

With  you,  in  my  thoughts,  in  a  dream, 

The  aftermath  of  my  roaming, 

In  the  glow  of  a  friend's  esteem. 

Again  to  return  to  my  romance — 

And  cull  from  its  distant  delight, 

My  shy  hesitating  advance 

That  made  you  so  sweet  to  my  sight. 

'Tis  then  that  I  see  you  my  Darling; 
With  your  irrepressible  charms! 
Re-voicing  the  thought  that  was  calling 
My  eager  young  Man-hood  to  arms! 
But  then,  like  a  magical  vision, 
The  scenes  disappear  from  my  view 
Depicting  Alas,  my  condition — 
A  Soul;  that  is  still  calling  you. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON          99 


SOME  BLESSINGS— BUT— !.. 

Come,  glance  your  eye  along  this  line — 
"Peace  on  this  Earth,  good  will  to  Man" 
The  everlasting  Christmas  sign, 
Since  this  old  Christian  farce  began, 
'Tis  framed  and  hung  around  the  world, 
And  petted  as  a  mouthy  phrase 
In  pulpit  oratory,  hurled 
In  fact  a  yearly  standard  craze. 

The  autocrat  all  sung  will  deign 

To  visit  in  his  car  that  day, 

An  Exemployee  racked  with  pain, 

And  tender  him  some  held  out  pay ; 

Then  tingling  with  his  charity 

He  seeks  the  warmth  before  his  hearth 

And  beams  upon  his  family 

The  essence  of  "Good  will  on  Earth." 

The  snow  may  fall,  the  wind  may  blow, 
But  all  is  peace  and  mirth  within, 
While  there' — without,  a  starved  scarecrow 
Goes  on  his  way — with  bitter  grin; 
He  knows  the  text — he's  read  it  well, 
It  haunts  him  as  he  fights  the  gale, 
That  takes  him  to  the  mouth  of  Hell ! 
And  makes  another  morning  tale. 

The  churches  fill  with  fashion's  throngs, 
And  equipages  line  the  streets, 


100        RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

And  congregations  move  their  tongues, 
As  ministers  each  prayer  repeats, 
"Oh  Lord,  give  us  our  daily  bread" 
The  kneeling  Congregation  Pray 
While  for  its  lack — a  spirit's  fled, 
Upon  this  festive  human  day. 

The  pinched,  and  starved  and  worn  out  frame, 

Of  mothers,  nursing  babes  at  breast, 

The  cast-off  "magdalene's"   of  shame, 

Beholding,  suicide  at  best, 

The  skulking  thief  thru  lack  of  aid, 

Who  steals  perhaps  to  save  someone, 

The  city's  urchins  undismayed, 

Who  face  man's  lot,  ere  childhood's  done. 

So  hang  aloft  your  scriptured  texts, 
And  give,  and  take,  as  custom  says, 
And  hide  your  worldly  wise  defects 
Behind  the  sanctity  of  praise; 
For  be  it  known  each  new  Yule-Tide 
Will  lessen  much  of  this  your  mirth, 
For  He,  who  in  His  anguish  cried 
Those  words —  Left  mockery  on  earth. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND   WITHOUT  REASON        101 


LIFE  SHOPPING 

On  the  shopping  side  of  Broadway, 
Where  the  Girls,  walk  up,  and  down, 
I  love  to  catch  the  flitter 
Of  a  pretty  smile,  or  frown. 
I  like  to  mingle  in  the  crush. 
And  sniff  a  rare  perfume 
Somehow  it  seems  much  better 
Than  the  confines  of  my  room. 

It  seems  there  must  be  others  too — 

Like  me — who  do  not  shop? 

For  they  wander  in,  and  out  the  crowd, 

And  very  rarely  stop ! 

It  sets  me  thinking  now,  and  then, 

That  things  are  out  of  gear. 

That  gives  such  happiness  to  some, 

While  others  lack  the  cheer. 

Why  should  we  hesitate,  or  lack 

Those  human  qualities? 

When  with  a  smile,  or  little  tact 

We  show  those  tendencies 

Which  makes  the  World  go  round  with  joy, 

And  lifts  the  fallen  hope 

Of  some  poor,  devil  who  becomes 

A  Weakling  without  scope  ? 


102       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE   TROUBADOR'S    BALLAD 

My  love,  is  a  maiden  tall, 

Graceful  and  fair. 
Her  song,  is  "Philomel's"  call, 

Thrilling  the  air. 

My  love,  is  a  wild  fragrant  flower, 

Who  drunkens  the  Eve. 
With  such  glorious  youth  to  endower, 

The  one  to  receive. 

And  the  breeze  as  it  passes,  whispers 

Go  not,  'neath  her  glance. 
They're  lit  with  strange  fires  at  vespers. 

That  lover's  entrance. 

And  once  in  her  magic  vision, 

No  efforts  avail. 
Her  beauty  is  sure  to  imprison, 

For  man  is  but  frail. 

She  promised  to  ope  to  my  sight 

Her  love,  long  denied. 
The  omens  are  fraught  with  delight ; 

The  Day,  has  just  died. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        103 


OUR  NATIONAL  OATH 

I'll  do  "my  bit" 
And  try  and  fit 
Into  the  scheme  of  things, 
By  off 'ring  'Self, 
If  not  this  Pelf, 
To  feel  the  joy  it  brings. 

Shall  I  stand  by 

While  others  try 

To  serve  "OLD  GLORY"  now— 

In  this  WORLD  WAR, 

Now  at  our  door, 

With  "Slacker"  on  my  brow? 

Suppose  we're  old? 

Let's  give  what  Gold 

We  can  to  heal  a  wound, 

And  by  it  give 

So  one,  may  live 

To  crown  our  Battle  Ground ! 

Let's  till  the  Soil 

Thru  this  turmoil, 

And  lessen  Europe 's  plight ; 

With  Brawn,  and  kind — 

Be  of  one  mind — 

Prepared  to  win  this  fight. 


104       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

A  "Wartime  poise 

Won't  help  our  boys 

As  driving  rivets  will ! 

With  Ships,  and  Guns, 

To  shatter  "Huns!" 

These  are  the  things  that  thrill! 

Let  Nation's  see 
That  Liberty- 
Is  not  an  empty  boast! 
But  forceful,  when 
Backed  up  by  Men, 
All  doing  their  utmost. 

MEN,  shall  be  freed! 
Is  now  our  creed, 
Against  oppressive  might. 
Do  what  we  can, 
As  Man,  to  Man. 
Establishing  that  right. 

Let's  serve  with  DEED. 

Our  COUNTRY'S  need. 

Until  SHE,  says  "WELL  DONE!'' 

Let's  not  Hurray — 

'Till  we  repay 

The  Kaiser,  and  we've  won. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        105 


LIVE— LET  LIVE 

Will  you  let  me  blossom  wildly, 
'Neath  the  genial  orb  of  day : 
Resting  on  my  Mother's  bosom 
Proud  and  gay? 

Why  should  I  be  plucked  haphazard, 
Torn  from  all  I  love  the  best : 
For  a  moment's  approbation 
From  her  breast  ? 

Removed  from  haunts  of  infancy 
To  be  placed  in  Lady's  bower: 
Soothing  her  aesthetic  senses 
For  an  hour? 

I,  as  you,  have  earthly  mission : 
Mine,  to  sooth  the  jaded  eye, 
In  a  natural  short  existence 
Ere  I  die. 

Will  you  see  me  in  my  sweetness 
Proud  with  beauty  trod  upon? 
Won 't  you  let  me  for  my  brief  life 
Feel  the  Sun? 


106       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


TO  SOME  ONE 

I  look  into  your  pleasing  face, 
In  which  I  see  a  spark, 
"W>  ich  tells  me  earth  is  but  a  place, 
Whereon  you've  set  your  mark. 

For  angels  are  the  sprites  I  see, 
In  every  changing  look — 
The  creatures  of  my  phantasy, 
The  ideals  of  a  book. 

Thus  Dear,  would  I,  if  fate  were  kind 
Bask  in  your  every  mood, 
Would  seek  the  beauties  of  your  mind, 
And  from  yourself,  steal  good. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON       107 


A  VOYAGE  OF  DISCOVERY 

(To  "Coffee  Dan's") 

The  night  before  St.  Patrick's  Day, 

(When   I'd  been — well,   a  trifle   gay) 
A  restaurant  got  in  my  way — 

So  I  went  in. 

A  'stumbling  down  its  yawning  stairs, 
At  first,  forsooth,  I  put  on  airs — 
The  sort  that  Eva  Tanquay  wears   ( !) 

Also  a  grin. 

I  heard  a  thousand  dishes  rattle ; 
I  heard  ten-score  gay  voices  prattle; 
I  watched  them  o'er  their  "ham-and" 
battle — 

Then  sat  down. 

Of  joy  no  sign  was  lacking  there ; 
Enough  there  was  and  some  to  spare; 
The  like  I've  ne'er  seen  anywhere 

In  this  old  town! 

The  while  I  dined,  without  a  pause 
The  laughter  grew.     I  sought  the  cause 
And  asked,  to  find  out  where  I  was, 

My  waiter  man. 

Behind  a  smile  but  poorly  hidden 
He  answered:  "Say,  bo,  nothin'  diddin'! 
You  never  heard — say,   kwitcher  kiddin ' ! 

Of  "COFFEE  DAN?" 


108       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

Enlightened  thus,  I  gazed  around 
Amazed  that,  somehow,  now  I  found 
A  friendliness  in  every  sound 

About  the  place ; 
I  understood  this  brotherhood 
And  sisterhood  in  genial  mood— 
Now  part  of  it,  I  saw  the  good 

In  every  face. 

Celebrity,  and  ne'er-do-well, 

Kubbed  elbows  there,  beneath  the  spell 

Conviviality  doth  dispel 

In  such  a  throng 

While  genius  bright,  and  scribe  obscure, 
And  high  and  low,  and  rich  and  poor, 
Surrendered  to  the  joyous  lure 

Of  jest  and  song. 

Each  seemed  to  feel  an  evening  spent 

To  gain  a  surfeit  of  content — 

Each  seemed  to  feel  an  evening  spent 

Exchanging  wit 

And  swapping  ideas  with  "the  boys" 
Would  hold  far  more  than  passing  joys — 
Would  broaden  views  and  deepen  poise 

A  little  bit. 

Three  hours  slipped  by !  I  rose  to  go — 
I'd  learned  the  lesson;  now  I  know 
Why  o'er  those  tables  high  and  low 

As  one  should  meet. 
I  clasped  the  right  hand  of  Mine  Host, 
And  knew   'twas  "COFFEE  DAN'S"  that 

most 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        109 

Deserved  old  San  Francisco's  toast: 
"Let's  go  and  eat!" 

Then  here's  a  health  to  "Coffee  Dan," 
And  'J.J."  too,  and  all  their  clan! 
Now — bottoms  up !  Let  all  who  scan 

This  dissertation 

Seek  out  forthwith  this  same  retreat 
(You'll  find  it  on  O'Farrell  street) 
And  when  you've  found  it — "go  and  eat" 

To  satiation ! 


110       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  HILLS 

Oh!  give  me  the  hills,  with  a  soul-giving 

breath, 

The  heather  that  rustles  below, 
Away  from  the   murkid,   the   City's  pent 

Death, 
That  skulks  in  the  Noon,  and  the  glow. 

Oh !  give  me  the  flowers,  all  coyfully  blushing, 
At  Him,  who  lies  there,  in  their  midst : 
With  the  songs  of  the  warblers,  all  artlessly 

gushing, 
With  the  fragrance  from  Earth,  on  his  lips. 

Oh !  give  me  the  leisure,  to  dwell  there  forever, 
To  bury  the  dull  cares  of  Life : 
To  feel  that  my  fingers  can  pluck  whatsoever 
Of  beauties  so  temptingly  rife. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON       111 


FULFILLMENT 

I  mourn  each  minute  that  is  wasted  now, 
I  seek  to  have  you  treading  Cupid's  path, 
And  wish  my  love  your  whole  life  to  endow, 
So  that  our  present — bring  no  aftermath. 

I'd  love  you  as  I  would  a  little  child, 
And  still  regard  you  as  the  girl  you  are, 
And  foster  you  thru  all  my  passions  wild, 
Or  linger  on  your  brightness  set  afar. 

It  matters  not  if  you  be  far  or  near, 
The  longing  in  our  hearts  will  always  meet; 
In  each,  our  understanding  will  enrear 
Such  scenes,  that  will  make  our  hopes  seem 
more  sweet. 


112       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


FANCY,  THE  GARDEN  OF  HOPE 

Come,  wander  with  me  in  a  rose  scented  clime, 
And  give  but  a  tithe  of  your  much  wasted 

time : 

The  beauties  of  nature  are  there  manifold, 
Those  breathing  it's  essence  will  never  grow 

old. 

The  body  may  waste  in  the  cycle  of  years, 
Unhastened  by  travail,  or  worries,  or  fears, 
But  the  heart,  ah!  the  heart,  will  retain  it's 

true  youth, 
And  minist'ring  angels  will  guard  it  from 

ruth. 

Then  wander  with  me,  leave  the  sordid  behind, 
And  garner  the  heart  with  the  fruits  of  the 
mind. 

This  garden  of  joy  caters  most  to  the  soul, 

The  carnal,  though  there,  is  a  grain  of  the 
whole : 

Delight  follows  delight,  in  this  ecstatic  glade, 

All  peopled  from  visions  'neath  each  pleasing 
shade. 

And  ever  it  is,  yea  an  Eden  most  fair, 

Exceeding  one's  dreams,  be  they  drastic 
or  rare, 

For  hope,  is  the  garden  my  muse  would  de 
pict, 

Where  mortals  may  pluck  with  no  fear  to 
restrict : 

Then  wander  with  me,  leave  the  sordid  be 
hind, 

And  garner  the  heart  with  the  fruits  of  the 
mind. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        113 


THE  SHIELD'S  REVERSE 

The  wounded  bird  whose  song  is  hushed; 
The  wilted  drooping  of  a  flower: 
A   goodly   inspiration   crushed: 
A  sunny  temper  turned  to  dour: 
All  these  are  links  to  black  despair, 
All  dead — because  beyond  repair. 

A  kindly  thought,  it  wots  not  where, 

A  tender  look,  a  friendly  lift : 

A  little  act  of  grace  to  spare, 

For  human  flotsam  cast  adrift. 

These  are  the  things  that  judge  us  when 

We  leave  these  tribunals  of  men. 


114        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


LOST  PARADISE 

I  had  pined  and  sighed  for  a  flower, 
A  flow'r  to  press  to  my  breast. 
So  that  it  would  live  and  endower 
My  heart  which  had  borne  long  unrest. 

I  waited,  and  waited,  and  waited, 
And  wondered  if  after  it  all 
My  longings  would  ever  be  mated 
To  ONE,  who  would  answer  my  call. 

The  gray  in  my  head  quickly  gathered, 
My  nights  were  as  toneless  as  lead, 
The  hope  inspiration  had  fathered 
Had  left  me  in  despair  instead. 

'Till  one  night  in  feverish  dreaming — 
I  saw  in  a  Desert  a  flow'r, 
I  plucked  it,  and  kissed  you  in  seeming! 
You  lay  on  my  heart  for  an  hour. 

The  day  came  apace,  but  not  joyless, 
I  reached  for  your  soul  thru  the  void, 
Your  Own,  understood  Cupid's  Wireless, 
Our  natures  became  overjoyed. 

We  met  and  we  slaked — where  we  thirsted! 
But  Fate's  stern  decree — now  Alas! 
Has'  sundered  our  bliss — how  I  nursed  it, 
I  had  it,  and  now  see  it  Pass ! 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        115 


CUPID'S  IRONY 

(To  G.  W.) 

I  have  a  rare  Carnation,  which 

Has  blood  red  stripes  against  its  white. 

It  holds  a  treasure  more  than  rich, 

It  is  a  storehouse  of  delight. 

I  watched  "MY  FATE"  for  one  full  hour, 
Bestow  her  lips,  with  reckless  care 
In  fragrant  kisses  on  that  Flow'r 
When  my  Soul,  thirsted  for  a  share. 

She  must  have  read  my  wild  desire, 
For  presently  her  Finger  tips, 
Pressed  in  my  hand  the  Flow'r  of  fire, 
Whose  Heart,  retained  her  naming  lips. 

'Twas  all,  and  now  I  strive  to  strain 
Her  careless,  given  wasted  bliss. 
That  in  this  fragrant  tomb  remain, 
To  feel  them  there — nor  gain  a  Kiss? 


116       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


INCONSTANCY 

You  will  enveigle  and  ensnare  my  heart, 
And  make  me  live  a  few  choice  hours  of  bliss, 
Then  leave  me  all  alone — a  thing  apart — 
With  empty  days  to  follow  for  each  kiss. 

How  long  can  youth  retain  its  thrilling  quest 
When  such  as  you,  with  motives  false,  con 
strue 

Your  fancy,  for  the  real  thing  in  your  breast, 
And  steal  the  best,  I  have  to  offer  you? 

Some  puny  years,  and  then  age  will  o'er  come 
The  masterful  resource  of  Lover's  prime, 
And   vacant  nights   and   haunting  day  will 

sum 
The  recompense  I  face  for  future  time. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        117 


DON  JUAN'S  REFORM 

With  bold  insistancy  he  pleaded, 

With  magic  fire  in  his  voice, 

Till  weak  she  yielded, 

This  sweet  surrender,  he  unheeded; 

His  object  gained — could  not  rejoice 

At  power  he  wielded. 

She !  swift  to  read  his  thoughts,  and  meaning, 
Before  her  lips  had  paid  him  toll — 
Swiftly  retreated! 

He !  startled  from  his  conscious  preening, 
Eesue'd  with  all  his  ardourous  soul, 
Because  defeated. 

And  now — when  she,  sweet  temptress  proffers 

Her  girlish  lips  to  meet  his  own, 

Quite  shy,  he  falters — 

But  man-like,  takes  the  sweets  she  offers, 

Returning  his — as  incense  thrown 

Upon  love's  altars. 


118       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  INVALID 

I   saw  you  lying  there   exquisite — delicate. 
About  you  Flowers  lazy  as  your  languor, 
You  welcomed  me — and  tho'  we  had  but  met, 
You  bared  your  Soul  in  unassuming  candour. 
The  fragrant  linen  that  you  lay  between 
"Was  not  more  snowy  than  your  peeping 

breast, 
Somehow  it  seemed  FATE  painted  me  a 

scene 
So  vivid  that  'twould  tantalize  my  rest. 

Your  satin  whiteness,  and  your  hectic  cheek, 
Almost  like  Marion  Marble  did  appear. 
But  these  were  aides,  when  once  I  heard  you 

speak, 

As  Music  your  voice  sounded  to  my  Ear. 
I  seemed  to  lose  the  thought  that  you  were  ill, 
For  how  could  one  so  sweet,  and  frail  as  you 
Be  so,  unless  the  weakness  of  your  will 
Desired  the  very  thing  you  hid  from  view  ? 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        119 


DESOLATION 

The  season  is  o'er, 

The  children  no  more 

Dig  holes  in  the  sand,  or  disport : 

The  waves  out  of  tune, 

Bewail  'neath  the  moon, 

The  spirits,  who  erst  paid  them  court. 

No  more  is  the  sound 

Of  revelry  found 

From  end  to  the  end  of  the  beach. 

Excepting  the  sweep 

Of  the  incoming  deep, 

That  my  thoughts  in  full  unison  reach. 


120       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


UNSPOKEN 

(To  D.  K.) 

It  isn't  the  things  that  we  do 
That  lasts  until  memory's  end, 

Its  the  light  which  you  cannot  subdue, 
The  hidden  desire  of  a  friend. 

It  isn't  the  things  you  have  said, 
I  bury  in  Life's  treasure-Chest, 

'Tis  the  wish  that  flickered,  and  fled 
From  Eyes,  with  a  secret — confessed. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        121 


YOU  WON  F-A-M-E 

I  saw  your  latent  talent  bud, 

I  watched  you  from  afar, 

Beheld  you  breast  "Dame  Fortune's"  flood, 

And  rise  to  be  a  Star. 

I  heard  your  praise  on  every  side, 
And  Grinned  within  my  soul, 
They  knew  not  that  your  part  belied, 
The  acting  of  your  Role. 

You  cared  not  how  I  spent  those  nights, 
As  you  went  blazing  on — 
Aspiring  to  "Electric  lights" 
That  finally  you  won. 

You  gained  the  goal !  but  lost  the  pow  'r 
To  thrill  this  heart  of  mine, 
You  threw  away  Life's  golden  Dow'r 
For  plaudits  for  a  time. 


122       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


LANGUAGE  OF  THE  EYES 

If  your  eyes  would  respond  to  mine, 
Each  time  you  pass  me  by, 
'Twould  lightsome  make  the  irksome  time 
That  hangs  so — how  I  try. 

Each  message  there  would  thrill  your  soul, 
For  love,  is  what  they  speak, 
With  scenes  of  joy  beyond  control 
To  beautify  your  cheek. 

Then  come,  sweet  student  whilst  I  teach 
The  language  of  my  eyes, 
'Twill  place  a  bliss  within  your  reach, 
On  which — but  Cupid  spies. 


KHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON       123 


WHAT  WAS 

How  wondrous  is  a  maiden's  smile, 
How  lovely  her  embrace  ? 
How  tender  her  unpracticed  guile 
To  hide  that — in  her  face? 

What  man  can  still  his  thrilling  soul 
When  her  face  bends  to  his  ? 
Suffused  with  blushes — past  control, 
To  him  what  Heaven  is  ? 

Ah  me !  in  this  I  envy  those 
Who  have — yet  waste  their  bliss! 
Once  also — I  had  plucked  a  rose ! 
Now  dreams  return  me  this. 


124       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  LOVE  FLOWER 

(To  F.  C.) 

Love  is  a  flaming,  scarlet  flow'r, 
Which  lifts  its  head  to  each  day 's  sun, 
But  stormy  skies  bewanes  its  pow'r, 
So  that  its  beauty  is  undone. 

Most  rare,  when  one  of  stronger  stem, 
Invites  the  rays,  resists  the  storms, 
Stands  dauntless  in  each  weather 'd  realm, 
Attaining  strength  that  patience  forms. 

So  love  can  ne'er  in  pow'r  wane, 
That  laughs  to  scorn  the  sombre  grey ; 
It  lives  thro'  ecstasy  of  pain, 
And  steals  the  sunshine  from  the  day. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        125 


PUPPY  LOVE 

When  youth  and  hot  blood  fill'd  your  veins, 

When  blackest  clouds  looked  bright, 

When  body  recked  not  of  its  pains, 

And  muscles  burst  for  fight, 

'Twas  then!  that  love  appeared  in  sight 

That  youth,  forgot  his  youth, 

And  found  his  passioned  heart  ignite 

His  soul  in  naming  truth. 

His  sports  of  boyhood  flung  aside, 

The  old  joys  cast  away; 

He  lived  his  new  life  with  a  pride 

No  time  could  then  delay, 

He  had  not  felt  as  yet  the  sting — 

That  comes  the  lover's  way; 

His  song,  was  not  as  yet  on  wing, 

He  knew  not  of  that  day. 

Then  came  the  crash,  his  castles  fell, 

She  left  him  with  a  smile — 

And  scorn — and  merriment  as  well, 

Her  answer — to  his  guile, 

She  told  him,  he  was  but  a  boy, 

And  should  be  in  knee  pants, 

And  further  said  in  accents  coy, 

"I'll  be  one  of  your  aunts." 


126        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  RKASON 


THE  ROAD  TO  POLLY'S  HEART 

My  sister  Poll  has  a  new  young  man 

Who  comes  a  courting  her: 

Each  time  he  comes  he  bows,  and  smiles, 

And  'dresses  me  as  "Sir." 

But  the  other  one,  she  had  before, 

Took  liberties  enough, 

He'd  pat  my  head,  and  give  me  "sweets," 

Such  nasty,  sticky  stuff! 

He  used  to  place  me  on  his  knee, 
And  call  me  "Mamma's  Boy" 
And  told  me  I  resembled  "Poll," 
As  if  that  was  a  joy? 

Tis  for  that,  I  like  the  "new  one," 
He  knows  my  worth,  I'm  sure, 
He  speaks  to  me  as  man-to-man ! 
With  ways  I  can  endure. 

And  before  he  went  away  last  night, 
He  loaned  me  half  a  "Dol" 
Now  isn't  that  enough  to  prove, 
He  ought  to  have  our  "Poll?" 

So  I  told  her  if  she  wanted  him, 
I'd  willingly  she  would: 
She  got  hysterical  at  that, 
Could  she  have  understood  ? 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        127 


THE  SECRET 

'Tis  a  cultivated  habit, 

When  you're  writing  Poetry, 

When  you  get  a  thought,  just  grab  it 

Keep  it  as  your  company. 

And  drink  with  it,  and  think  with  it, 

Until  It  says  " Yours  Truly." 

When  you  have  it  well  subjected 

To  your  way  of  thinking  it, 

Get  it  lined  up,  and  connected 

To  a  lot  of  Rhymes,  and  Wit. 

The  balance  comes  just  natural, 

In  time  you'll  find  a  Quorum, 

Who  will  exclaim — "How  wonderful" 

That's  all — you've  done  a  Poem. 


128       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

"I'M   JUST   A   VALENTINE" 

(To  Jeannette) 

I'm  just  a  simple  Valentine! 

I  come  when,  e're  I  can, 

And  try  to  brighten  with  sunshine 

The  heart,  of  maid  and  man. 

I  give  what  joy  I  can  employ 

All  seasons  of  the  year, 

And  make  them  vouch,  I  kill  their  grouch ! 

Whenever  I  am  near. 

I  represent  the  greatest  Game, 
Since  Adam  won  his  suit, 
The  Formula  is  just  the  same 
That  Lovers  institute. 
Perhaps  the  rules  may  vary,  but — 
The  moth  will  chase  the  flame, 
And  offer  everything  he's  got 
To  make  her  take  his  name. 

For  I  'm  the  little  Valentine 

Who  travels  to  that  heart  of  thine 

And  makes  it  young  again 

The  Post  cards  at  the  stationer 

Will  prove  I'm  love's  commissioner 

No  one  seeks  me  in  vain. 

Now  change  your  frown,  lets  see  you  smile 

And  squeeze  your  lady's  hand  awhile — 

She'll  snuggle  to  your  side, 

That's  lesson  number  one  your  on, 

The  rest  will  follow  when  that's  done. 

Now  arn  't  you  glad  you  tried  ? 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        129 


"I'LL  RETURN" 

Good  bye,  California! 

I  am  going  to  the  North, 

Where  the  frozen  earth  is  waiting 

To  have  her  ^old  brought  forth. 

There  in  its  icy  fastness, 

I'll  toil  both  night,  and  day, 

To  pan  the  earth, 

For  all  she 's  worth, 

Until  I  make  her  pay. 

Good  bye,  California ! 

I  '11  be  gone  a  year,  or  two, 

But  When  I'm  tired  of  slaving, 

I'll  sure  come  back  to  you. 

Then  in  your  fields  of  Poppy, 

With  God's  sunshine  above, 

I  won't  be  slack 

In  paying  back 

My  debt  to  you — in  Love. 


130       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  EMPIRE  CITY 

Great  City  of  despair,  and  bliss. 
When  far  away — I  think  of  you, 
And  every  hour  that  I  miss 
Somehow  reveals  a  clearer. view 
Of  all  your  rottenness,  and  throbbs, 
Of  Millionaires,  of  overnight ! 
Of  hungry  wastrels,  lacking  jobs, 
All  scrambling  in  the  upward  fight. 

If  pity  is  within  your  ken, 

'Tis  hidden  deeply  out  of  sight, 

Your  checker-board  is  played  with  men, 

Who  strove  by  day — to  pass  by  night. 

Your  Parks,  and  Tenements  attest 

Your  attitude  of— "WE  SHOULD  CAKE" 

Your  Christian  charity  professed, 

Is  greatly  tinged  with — "Lassez  faire." 

With  hectic  fever  in  your  veins, 

You  festered  in  your  poisoned  self, 

You  sweated  hearts  to  suit  your  gains, 

You  deified  the  God  of  Pelf. 

You  tainted  Souls,  and  Flesh  for  lust, 

You  wallowed  in  unholy  fires, 

Your  blatant  creed— "IN  GOD  WE  TRUST" 

But  falsified  vour  crude  desires. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        131 

THE  CITY'S  CRY 

Across  the  cold  bleak  Park — at  dark 

The  shivering  wretches  go ; 

No  home  is  their 's — nobody  cares 

What  brought  them  to  their  woe. 

The  icy  wind  may  dogg  their  steps, 

And  pierce  each  ragged  rent, 

Yet  who  will  stop  to  probe  the  depths, 

Or  give  a  brief  content  ? 

What — ere  their  haste — it  is  but  waste 

Of  strength  to  move  on  faster; 

When  warmth  is  brief — and  Death — the  thief ! 

That  night  may  prove  their  master; 

Their  aimless,  faltering  limbs  may  give — 

Their  bodies  crave  for  food, 

Yet    cynics    say — "Why    should    they    live? 

On  Earth — what  is  their  good?" 

Why  don't  they  work — Why  do  they  shirk 

The  duties  of  existence  ? 

This  easy  slips — from  rich  men's  lips — 

Who  never  worked !  for  instance  ! ! 

Their  very  critic's  are  the  first — 

(These  parvenues  of  pleasure) 

To  make  the  wrecks. — their  lips  have  cursed, 

So,  pouring  out  Hell's  measure. 

Yet  we  concede — there  is  a  Breed 

Of  wastrels  in  this  City — 

Who  can  but  blame,  their  own  ill  fame, 

If  they  receive  no  pity — 

Yet,  even  such,  are  souls  from  God — 

"Ours"  come  from  that  same  mould, 

Then,  will  we  have  that  "Eye"  record, 

"We  left  them  in  the  cold?" 


132        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


VACATION 

It  is  raining  like  the  Devil,  and  the  lake  has 

gained  an  inch, 
And  the  frogs  which  are  not  croaking,  are 

all  "croaked,"  that  is  a  cinch! 
The  trees  are  weeping  bueketfuls,  as  the  tears 

descend  their  limbs, 
While  the   Congregation  in  the  Church  are 

howling  Neptune's  hymns; 
The  minister  is  scorching  hot,  for  he  alone 

seems  dry, 
And  the  sparrows  on  the  steeple — for  that 

reason  hovers  nigh, 
The  grass  has  got  a  "souse  on" — while  the 

roads  have  got  the  mud, 
While  one  optimistic  fishing  "guy,"  believes 

there'll  be  a  flood; 

The  flowers  act  like  Debutantes — they  droop 
in  wilted  rows, 
As  if  they  had  been  out  all  night  in  soiled, 

disordered  clothes. 
The   vines  are   madly   clinging  to   our  very 

leaky  porch 

As  their  only  place  of  refuge  from  the  cloud 
burst  's  last  debauch ; 
Our  pup  seems  full  of  ginger — and  the  old 

dog's  full  of  fleas, 
But  sanguine  for  the  future  lies  the  cat  upon 

my  knees. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        133 

In  fact  all  nature  seems  a  tank,  with  empha 
sis  on  tank! 
Which   enters  every   knot-hole-crack   and 

makes  mere  speech  a  blank! 
We  dare  not  read  our  newspaper  for  fear  our 

eyes  might  tire 
But  seek  out  Life-Belts-Rafts  and  such,  to 

start  a  little  fire, 
Then  find  our  stove  has  vanished — like  most 

everything — gone  out! 
Except  some  floating  cabbages  that  turned  to 

sauer  kraut. 

At  last  the  flood  retires  with  grace,  and  takes 
the  garden  too, 
And  we  begin  all  over — as  it  were — start  Life 

anew — 


134       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


"THE  TRIMMERS" 

Say,  Lizzie,  spot  the  "Sucker" 
Wid  the  "Cabbage"  in  his  Coat. 
He  tinks  he's  some  "swell  looker," 
Let's  try  an  get  his  "Goat?" 
You  play  the  Country  Orphan. 
Who  wants  ter  see  the  sights, 
Leave  me  do  all  the  "coughin'  ' 
Den  see  how  quick  he  "bites?" 

Get  busy  on  the  "showers," 
Dis  gets  dem  on  the  "jump," 
Den  I  will  use  me  powers 
Perhaps  I'll  turn  a  "trump" 
"Biz,"  is  on  the  " f are-you-well, " 
An  so  is  me  inside. 

"Eaten  Joints,"  dey  ain't  in  HELL! 
An  hunger  has  no  pride. 

Why  wat's  the  matter,  LIZZIE? 
Yer  weepin'  on  the  square, 
Just  wen  we  should  get  busy 
Yer  turn  me  down  fer  fair. 


Hey,  Mister,  Wat's  yer  hurry? 
(Say,  Liz,  he's  goin'  ter  stop!) 
Now  pipe  me  trim  me  Quarry, 
Suppose  he  is  a  "Cop?" 
Gee  whiz,  He  ain't  no  "Piker!" 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON       135 

He's  smilin'  in  me  Face, 

(Dat  makes  him  look  just-like-yer) 

He's  wat  I  calls  an  "ACE." 

(I'm  done,  you've  won  me  Hero,) 
I  get  it  on  the  "blink." 
Me  hopes  are  down  ter  zero 
"YOURS  TRULY,"  hits  a  drink. 
Good  bye  LIZ,  I  will  leave  yer 
To  start  another  hunt, 
But  don't  leave  him  deceive  yer 
Because  he  "wears  a  Front." 


I'm  off  ter  grab  another. 

(Stop  Spoonin'  in  the  Street) 

GREAT  GAWD!  the  Guy's  yer  BROTHER? 

Good  Night  .      .  I'm  off  me  "Beat." 


136       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


CONVINCING  HERSELF 

"I  cannot  see  why  I  should  be 
Your  Darling  Amouretta? 
When  with  my  own  'Affinity,' 
I  certainly  do  much  better. 
Your  Bank  account  is  rather  Nil, 
And  tho  you  are  much  younger, 
This  will  not  pay  the  Grocery  Bill — 
Or  keep  'Sweet  Me,'  from  hunger." 

' '  You  know  of  course  I  like  to  dress, 

And  keep  right  to  the  minute. 

If  you  had  money,  I  confess 

I'd  eagerly  begin — it. 

But  what's  the  use  in  mincing  things — 

(Altho  we  like  each  other) 

But  no  degree  of  wishing  brings 

Results  that  ends  the  bother. 

' '  So  why  go  on — let 's  say  Good  Bye  ? 

Or  else  I'm  sure  to  falter, 

You  realize  I've  got  to  try 

To  be  firm  as  'Gibralta?'  ' 

Farewell  Sweetheart !    Yes — just  one  kiss. 

'Twill  help  us  to  remember — 

An  incident,  we  both  will  miss1 — 

OH  DARLING !  I  surrender ! 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        137 


"WRITING  HOME" 

"The  tricks  of  wicked  men  I  met," 

Wrote — Angelica  Brown. 

"  'Twas  something  terrible,  you  bet, 

The  moment  I  reached  Town. 

They  seemed  to  spot  me  right  away — 

As  coming  from  Squeedunk. 

And  did  their  level  best  to  pay 

For  Drinks  to  get  me  drunk." 

"One  flashing  Sport,  with  Diamond  Studs. 

said — 'Kiddo  you  for  me' 

Instead  of  wine,  he  ordered  'Suds' 

I  quit  his  company. 

And  then  a  Mine  Promoter  said — 

'Where  goest  thou  sweet  Maid? 

Join  me,  we'll  paint  this  old  Town  Red' 

I  didn't  like  his  trade!" 

"At  last,  I  met  a  'wiser  One,' 
I  guessed  this  from  his  'Boll' 
He  introduced  me  to  his  son, 
Who  needed  much  control. 
I  married  him  to  keep  him  in? 
This  fact  he  couldn't  learn. 
But  I  should  worry  I've  got  'Tin' 
Good  bye,  I'll  not  return." 


138       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  BAD  BARGAIN 

Strangely  I  sought  you, 
Lovingly  brought  you, 
Into  my  Palace  of  dreams. 
Placed  you,  enshrined  you, 
Then  couldn't  find  you 
Help-Mate  to  waken  my  themes. 

I  didn't  need  you, 

As  a  new  Bijou. 

Tend  'ring  delight  to  my  blood ! 

Now  if  I  grieve  you, 

Yes — or  deceive  you — 

Why  have  you  misunderstood? 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        139 


POSTPONED 

Were  you  ever  meloncholy, 
With  a  fit  of  Blue's  that  fully 
Made  you  feel  the  World  was  rotten 
To  its  core? 

When  you  didn't  feel  quite  certain 
"Whether  you  would  drop  the  curtain," 
Knowing  you  would  be  forgotten 
From  Life's  shore  ? 

Have  you  watched  the  Dawn's  horizon, 

As  you  held  a  deadly  Poison, 

With  the  knowledge  you  were  using 

It  to  go? 

Yet  somehow  a  feeling  stronger 

Made  you  wait  a  little  longer — 

Or  a  thought  perhaps  amusing' — 

Held  you  so  ? 

'Till  at  last  the  Sun  came  peeping 

From  the  East  and  started  steeping 

All  the  World  with  warmth  and  gladness 

In  sunshine. 

Then  you  felt  another  Being 

With  your  other — Self,  agreeing 

That  a  former  deadly  madness 

You'd  decline. 

Sprucing  up,  a  habit  Daily, 
You  outdo  yourself,  and  gaily 


140       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

Saunter  to  the  Business  section, 

All  agrin, 

There,  with  energetic  ardor, 

You  will  keep  on  striving  harder 

'Till  you  soar  above  dejection, 

And  you  WIN. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        141 


THE  EASY  ROAD 

The  easiest  thing  in  all  this  world 
When  all  is  said  and  done, 
Is  to  feel  yourself  slip  backward 
From  a  point  your  courage  won. 

It  has  no  paths  that  backward  stretch, 
The  road  is  short  and  straight, 
It  glitters  mostly  all  the  way, 
But  at  the  end — waits  Fate. 

The  start  once  made,  bends  strongest  wills 

To  gratify  desires, 

To  temporize  with  follied  vice, 

And  strange  illicit  fires. 


142        RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  WAGER 

"Of  course  I'll  play  a  game  of  Whist, 

With  one  proviso.    I  am  kissed, 

If  we  should  win?" 

His  words  were  for  the  Lady  fair, 

Who  was  to  be  his  partner  there. 

"So  Let's  begin." 

The  cards  were  dealt,  and  Heart,  was  Trump. 
Which  made  the  little  Lady  jump 
Across  from  Him ; 
He,  hadn't  one  of  that  red  suit, 
His  Heart  was  low,  his  Tongue  was  mute, 
She,  played  with  vim. 

She  led  the  Ace  of  Hearts,  and  He, 
Regained  his  heart,   immediately 
With  every  Trick. 

Six  leads  in  that  Trump  suit  wras  led, 
He  made  the  odd  one,  then  He  said 
"HEARTS,  win  out  quick!" 

"  I  've  won  the  Wager  now  by  right 

But  will  not  claim  the  sweet  delight 

Your  Lips,  molest. 

I  thought  you  could  not  play  the  Game  ? ' ' 

SHE,    blushed    and    murmured, — "Its    the 

same — 
I,  played  my  BEST." 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        143 


STAR  DUST 

I've   known  many   girls  who  have   charmed 

me  awhile 

But  none  whom  I've  known  can  profess 
To  have  the  far-reaching  infectuous  smile 
Of  ''dream  girls"  sweet  wireless  caress — 
It  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  lull  after  storm 
When  the  day,  is  refreshed  by  the  sun. 
When  the  chill  gives  way  to  a  latitude  warm, 
That  makes  your  blood  tingle  and  run. 

Then  should  you  be  lucky  as  my  present  case ; 

To  chatter  while  holding  her  hand ! 

And  watch  the  rose  painting  each  blush  on 

her  face 

In  language  sweethearts  understand! 
Then  you — have  perception  to  know  what  I 

feel 

Each  time  I  perceive  her  afar — ? 
I  follow  unerring  the  human  appeal.     .     .     . 
As  star  dust,  will  follow  the  star. 


144       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


WHAT  WOULD  YOU  DO? 

What  would  you  do  if  Fate  were  kind 
And  gave  you  what  you  desired 
In  gold,  and  fame,  and  a  mind  inspired — 
To  better  the  thing  that  you  find  ? 

What  would  you  do  if  adversity  came 
And  stripped  you  of  all  you  possessed 
Taking  from  you  the  ultimate  quest 
Of  living  to  glory  your  name  ? 

What  would  you  do  if  your  last  hope  had  fled 
And  thrown  you  a  wreck  on  Life's  shore — 
Would  you  remain  or  struggle  some  more — 
Creating  a  new  light  instead? 

What  would  you  do — as  you  struggled  above 
The  shackles  of  grim  circumstance 
Your  all  had  been  lost — yet  by  merest  chance 
Your  heart  gained  a  kingdom  of  love  ? 

What  would  you  do — with  material  fame 
With  riches,  and  glory,  and  such  ; 
Would  you  discard  them  for  one  kindly  touch 
Of  lips  joined  to  yours — all  aflame? 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        145 


THE  HANDWRITING  ON  THE  WALL 

Some  day  our  men  of  capital 
Will  meet  their  Waterloo. 
At  that  time  it  will  be  "Say  Pal 
Let  me  divide  with  you." 

The  ancient  formula  will  change 
"What  can  I  do  you  for" 
When  intellect  shall  find  its  range 
Thru  knowledge  of  this  war. 

Labor's  voice  will  be  upheld 
By  present  profiteers — 
Its   potency   is   now   corralled — 
To  profit  coming  years. 


146        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  REASON 

Every  now  and  then  of  course, 
Like  the  best  of  men 
I  am  guided  by  a  force 
That  makes  me  seize  a  pen. 

With  no  thought  to  perpetrate 
A  sentimental  thought — 
Such  things  I  try  to  execrate — 
Too  oft  they  come  to  naught. 

But   somehow  much   against   my   will 
This  pen  will  trace  a  word 
That  makes  me  but  a  victim  still 
From  memories  that  stirred ! 

And  tho  I  do  my  best  to  quit 
What  I  am  thinking  of 
As  sure  as  fate  my  pen  writes  it — 
Another  ode  to  Love. 

So  why  blame  my  Poetic  muse? 
(I  sympathize  with  you) 
The  check  I  seek  is  my  excuse — 
Get  you  my  point  of  view? 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        147 


MY  ANSWER 

You  ask  me  if  I  miss  you — ? 
When  the  sky  is  dark  o'er  head, 
When  the  sun  shines  not  anew, 
And  the  warmth  of  spring  has  fled. 

You  ask  me  if  I  miss  you —  ? 
When  the  birds  refuse  to  sing1 — 
The  olden  sweetness  that  I  knew, 
That  hearts  attuned  will  bring. 

You  ask  me  if  I  miss  you? — 
As  I  sit  alone  and  think, 
And  dash  from  weary  eyes  the  dew, 
Which  came  from  sorrow's  brink. 

You  ask  me  if  I  miss  you? — 
Yet  you  glance  to  skies  above ! 
Beholding  its  untroubled  blue, 
As  blemishless  as  love. 

You  ask  me  if  I  miss  you? — 
Will  a  babe  refuse  the  breast? 
If  so — I  do  not  need  you 
My  longing  is  confessed. 


148       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

"PASS  OUT  CHECKS" 

This   Effusion   is   Dedicated   to   "Col." 
Jack  Doyle. 

Just  a  few  are  missing,  Jack! 
Who  are  never  coming  back ! 
Yes— they  passed  out,  with  the  "FLU" 
And,  you  '11  miss  your  friends,  won 't  you  ? 
Some,  were  Yearly  Ticket  Holders, 
Thorough   Sports,   good   "Scouts"   and   Sol 
diers. 

Every  Tuesday  night  they  sought 
Action  in  the  Fistic  Sport, 
In  your  cosy,  snug  Arena, 
Where  the  Game  could  not  be  cleaner. 

Now — somehow  with  poetic  view, 
I  see  them  calling  back  to  you, 
From  where  they  are  in  Spirit-Land, 
In  language  you  will  understand. 
"SAY,  COLONEL!  THROW  'EM  OUT! 
"GIVE  US  AN  EXTRA  BOUT! 
"WHERE  DID  CHER  PICK  'EM  UP? 
"GEE   WHIZZ,    HERE    COMES   THE 
COP!" 

And  so,  Friend  Jack — from  where  you  sit, 
If  you  feel  things!    You  must  admit — 
'Tis  "Doc"  or  "Ben"  or  "Dick"  or  "Ike" 
All  slinging  tips,  you're  bound  to  like. 
And  though  Each  one  went  out  with  "FLU" 
They're  back  again  to  see  anew, 
From  where  they  are !   (without  Admission) 
The  Game  go  on  in  good  condition. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON       149 


MOTHER 

(To  the  C—   -  Family.) 

You  did  not  fail  us  as  wee  bairns, 
We  rushed  to  you  with  each  complaint. 
You  spread  that  tender  love — that  yearns 
In  Mothers'  Eyes — which  Artists  paint. 

We  leaned  on  ev'ry  word  you  said, 
As  we  sprang  from  the  fledging  form 
So  thru  your  guidance  we  were  led 
Secure,  and  safely  thru  each  storm. 

Our  griefs,  and  joys  you  made  your  own, 
As  we  bloomed  to  maturity, 
To  you  we  bared  our  hearts — alone, 
Immune  in  our  security. 

You  did  not  hesitate  to  give 
Your  efforts,  Life,  and  tenderness — 
So  that  your  brood  of  Loved-ones  live 
Without  you,  in  this  wilderness. 


150       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  CONTRETEMPS 

A  winesome  little  Modiste — and  a  sprucy  city 
clerk, 

Determined  to  get  married,  but  to  keep  the 

matter  dark, 

So  tney  took  a  day's  vacation  from  their  re 
spective  labors, 

And  met,  and  squandered  recklessly  much 
money  on  odd  capers. 

They  decided  with  a  zeal  beyond  the  bounds 

of  married  state, 
To  enjoy  a  last  vacation  e'er  they  went  to 

seal  their  fate, 
So  with  hearts  attuned  to  highest  pitch,  they 

started  on  their  way, 
(The  writer  here  must  state  the  fact,  that 

both  seemed  rather  gay.) 
Towards  dusk,  they  changed  their  plans,  so 

they  sauntered  in  a  park, 
Here   a   fascinating   Siren   gave   her   eyes   a 

little  lark. 
Their  glances  met,  his  color  rose,  she  coyly 

veiled  her  own, 
"While  he  quite  flabergasted,  tried  the  whole 

thing  to  disown. 

(The  writer  here  must  interrupt — it  slipped 
his  mind  before, 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        151 

That  the  Modiste  had  been  left  by  will,  a  mile 

of  barren  shore, 
He  would  not  have  the  reader  place  upon  this 

too  much  weight 
But  for  purposes  of  history,  these  facts,  he 

must  relate.) 

Now  it  seems  our  dainty  heroine,  full  con 
scious  of  her  worth, 
Had  seen  this  coquettry  of  eyes,  with  feelings 

far  from  mirth, 
When  Presto !  like  a  lightning  flash,  so  quick 

it  came  alas ! 
She  saw  her  lover  as  he  was — the  gold  had 

turned  to  brass. 

She  would  have  left  him  there  and  then — 
contempt  enwreathed  her  face, 

(The  writer  here  must  emphasize,  they'd 
reached  a  lonely  place) 

No  vulgar  eyes  were  there  to  note  the  rift 
within  the  lute — 

('Tis  sad  to  contemplate  the  useless  plead 
ings  of  a  suit?) 

He  prayed  her  by  that  love  she  'd  had  for  him 

(  an  hour  before — ) 
To  overlook  his  darkened  past,  which  he  did 

so  deplore ! 
He  knelt  upon  the  verdant  sward  before  his 

Idol's  feet, 
(And  used  such   burning  phrases — that  his 

lips  turned  dry  from  heat. 

Not  all  his  fairy  eloquence  could  move  that 
stony  breast, 


152        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

She  told  him  in  some  chosen  words — his  suit 

was  misaddressed, 
That — perhaps   some   day   he'd   find   a   wife 

•  upon  a  lower  level, 
(Which  made  him  feel  somehow  that  she — 

had  sent  him  to  the  Devil. 

She  flung  his  ring  before  him  (it  was  much 

too  large  for  her) 
With  a  grace  the  stage  might  copy,  the 

writer  does  aver!) 
And  with  superb  indifference — which  tilted 

her  pert  nose, 
She  left  her  stricken  lover  there — a  cynic, 

fledged — morose ! 

The  writer  could,  were  he  disposed,  continue 

this  adventure — 
But  like  a  wise  man  does  refrain — before  he 

merits  censure, 
He  winds  up  with  a  moral,  to  prove  he  isn't 

careless 
Control  your  features  on  the  Day  you  wed  a 

pretty  heiress! 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        153 


LIFE'S  TRUEST  NOTE 

The  World  looked  on  and  marvelled  as  he 

sang 
This   singer   rare,    whose    notes   they    newly 

hear: 

And  breathless  on  its  golden  timbre  hang 
Enraptured  from  the  spell,  their  visions  rear ; 
Its  piercing  volume  wakened  many  a  pang 
That   long  had   slumbered   in  their  beds   of 

drear, 
For  they  perceive  the  source  from  whence  it 

sprang, 
And  through  this  knowledge,  shed  their  cold 

veneer. 

How  else  should  happy  heart,  but  wake  to 

song! 

Which  bears  the  impress  of  the  victor  strong 

Whose  many  notes  are  gladdened  from  .love 's 

store  ? 

Dispensing  joy  to  that  vast  gala  throng 
Who  heard  their  own  heart's  story  from  his 

tongue 
Which  lightened  many  hearts,  but  burdened 

more. 


154        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


FAME  RENEWED 

An  artist  to  his  poet  friend 
Said,  "Let  me  draw  a  sketch  of  thee, 
Thy  strain  may  linger  to  the  end, 
Sweet  songs  to  cheer  posterity 
If  I  your  attributes  attend." 

The  poet  loath  to  baulk  such  aim, 

Yet  shy,  assumed  a  tragic  pose : 

Said — "As  you  say — come  draw  this  frame! 

And  let  it  through  your  pencil  grow, 

A  shrine  whereon  to  build  you  fame." 

Years  speeded  by,  to  dust  both  are, 
The  poet's  song  had  ceased  to  cheer, 
'Till  Lo !  a  whisper  spread  afar 
That  once  an  artist  did  enrear 
His  genius  to  each  soaring  star. 

The  whisper  grew — anon  was  found 
"The"  sketch  all  mildewed,  hid  away. 
Great  critics  came  and  gazed  spellbound: 
'Till  now  their  resting  place  looks  gay, 
"With  Floral  Tributes  all  around. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        155 


THE  LONE  SIGNALLER 

A  painful  feeling  as  of  smold'ring  fires, 
An  empty  void  that  cries  aloud  its  need, 
A  throbbing  brain  which  sees  in  its  desires, 
A  signal  waved  without  the  mate  to  read. 
Beholding — yet  despairing  to  be  freed, 
His  loneliness  a  stigma  to  his  sires, 
Impotent  his  Man's  longings  vainly  plead, 
For  that  sweet  soul  to  urge  where  he  aspires. 

Why  is  it  some  have  all,  and  others  none  ? 
Is  not  his  love  as  pure,  as  sweet,  as  true? 
Do  not  his  eyes  beam   Hope,   where   others 

rue? 
Why  has  he   failed,   when  lesser  men  have 

won? 

Do  others  gain,  because  they  dare,  and  do? 
Then  why  not  He — Has  he  not  asked,  and 

done? 


156        RHYMES — WITH  AND   WITHOUT  REASON 


"THE  NE'ER  DO  WELL" 

Heigh,  Ho !  for  the  life  of  the  ' '  young  shoot ' ' 

is  merry, 

A  life  full  of  changes,  a  strenuous  life, 
Pursuing  the  pleasures  that  olden  days  bury, 
Contemning  the  weakness  of  worry,  and 

strife. 
On  fair  English   shire,   or  the  wild   rolling 

prairie, 

A  spendthrift  at  home,  but  a  rancher  afar : 
The  first  to  face  danger,  his  good  pluck  will 

carry 
Him  dashing  thru  all,  for  his  hopes  above  par. 

At  home  in  the  clime  of  the  torrid,  or  frozen, 
On  high  mountain  peak,  or  the  valley  beneath, 
Out  scaling,  or  hunting,  the  proper  man 

chosen, 

To  lead  the  bold  van,  over  chasm,  or  heath. 
The   most   debonnaire   of   the   balls   graceful 

dancers 
The  most  deadly  shot  to  compete  for  the 

"prix," 

A  dashing  ' '  Vaquero ' ',  the  bravest  of  lancers, 
The  last  man  of  all  whom  the  enemy  see. 

With  pelf  in  his  pocket,  enough  but  to  cover 
The  pleasures  of  moment  that  come  to  his 
view; 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        157 

The  firmest  of  friends,   and  a  true  hearted 

lover, 

A  gentleman  always,  to  give  him  his  due. 
Then  long  life  to  these,  who  in  full  dress,  or 

flannels, 
Discard  them  for  garb,  of  lone  lands,  or  home 

mart, 
For  these  are  the  Knights  who  give  spice  to 

our  annals, 
Without  them  our  era  from  romance  would 

part. 


158       RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


CRITICISM 

Two  flaunting  garden  roses  bloomed 

In  glorious  beauty  rare ; 

Each  morn,  the  gard'ner — watered — groomed 

Them,  with  excessive  care; 

A  little  wayside  flower  close  by, 

With  envy — sighed  each  day, 

And  inwardly  would  wonder  why 

No  gard  'ner  came  her  way ! 

'Till  lo!  one  morn,  a  nesting  pair 

In  leaves  just  overhead, 

Peeped  from  their  home  to  take  the  air, 

And  to  each  other  said: 

"How  sweet  that  flow'r  shines  down  there! 

Amidst  the  waving  grass, 

It  thrives  without  the  pampered  care 

Those  roses  have  'neath  glass." 

They  flew  away — but  left  behind — 
A  flow'r  of  fragrant  heart, 
Who  felt  anon — above  her  kind, 
For  hers,  had  ceased  to  smart ; 
'Tis  meet,  that  beauty  win  a  glance, 
'Tis  their 's  by  nature's  right: 
But  he  who  seeks,  will  some  day  chance 
Upon  a  Flower 'd  delight. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON        159 


THE  REWARD 

When  I  told  that  story  new, 
In  a  trembling  voice  to  you, 
And  I  saw  your  blushes  mount  upon  your 

cheek. 

Then  you  shyly  turned  your  head, 
When  love's  message  to  you  sped, 
While  I  waited  anxiously  for  you  to  speak. 

How  the  ages  seemed  to  roll, 

As  I  tried  to  calm  my  soul, 

Waiting  for  your  final  word,  to  make  us  one ; 

Then  I  noticed  with  a  start, 

That  your  eyes,  betrayed  your  heart, 

Giving  me  the  kind  of  heaven  rarely  won. 

Now  we're  old  and  silver 'd  each, 
Yet  the  old  tale,  we  still  teach. 
To  the  beaming  faces,  at  our  fireside. 
And  in  each  fond  youthful  glance, 
We'll  relive  our  own  romance, 
Down  the  vale  of  years  with  cupid  as  our 
guide. 


160       RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

SUFFRAGISM 

On  every  side — one  see 's  the  sneers 
Enwreath  the  scoffing  lips  of  men, 
When  ere  the  weaker  sex  appears, 
Insisting  on  their  rights  again. 

They  will  but  view  the  surface  thing 
They  say,  ' '  Oh  how  ridiculous ! 
To  see  those  who  should  purr,  and  cling, 
Appear  with  traits  conspicuous." 

Beyond  this  even,  they  insist 
Our  purpose  is  to  "wear  their  shoes/' 
Need  one — rehearse  their  hackney 'd  list? 
It  would  e'en  common  sense  confuse. 

If  they  but  taxed  their  reason — they 
Might  -feel  that  ours  is  a  just  cause ; 
Nay,  further,  even  might  display 
Their  anger  at  one  sided  laws. 

Why  should  not  woman  have  the  right 
If  they,  like  men,  support  the  state? 
For  have  they  not  as  well  their  fight 
For  bread?     Then  why  them  underrate? 

Then  where 's  the  wonder  if  they  strive 
To  reach  the  plane,  that  suits  them  best? 
Is  it  a  fault  if  they  contrive 
By  brains,  and  pluck  to  win  Life's  crest? 

Come,  Gentlemen !  give  voice  and  heart 
To  help  a  cause,  that  needs  your  note, 
Deflect  a  time  from  home  and  mart 
Supporting  us  to  get  a  vote. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         161 


THE  VIOLINCELLO 

A  pensive  maiden  sat  each  night 
With  her  loved  violincello, 
Giving  Musical   delight? 
To  one  she  termed  her  fellow. 

He,  unaware  of  heart  he'd  won, 
Would  lounge,  and  pose,  and  smoke-up, 
And  wished  the  music  would  have  done, 
While  she,  with  tears  would  choke-up. 

Each  night  before  his  hotel  dinner, 

He  scowled,  and  grunted  frequent. 

And  said  ' '  each  meal  but  made  him  thinner, : 

And  looked  at  the  delinquent. 

She  seemed  to  feel  his  every  mood, 
And  to  show  him,  that  she  saw  them: 
Would  play  her  'cello  extra  good — 
With  master  strains,  to  win  him. 

At  last  one  night,  she  sought  in  vain 
The  pampered  face  she  knew, 
And  gripped  her  heart  as  if  in  pain — 
For  dreaming  love  was  true. 

Somewhere  in  this  great  country  free 
There  roams  a  stupid  fellow 
Who  won  a  girl  who  artlessly 
Played  love  upon  her  'cello. 


162        RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  HINT 

Oh  Paddy  Dear, 

If  what  I  hear 

About  the  town  is  true, 

Rude  men  are  kissing  all  the  girls, 

Who  have  twin  eyes  of  blue. 

Now  Paddy  Dear, 

I  have  a  fear 

You'll  lose  your  steady  girl, 

For  kissing  takes 

Away   my   aches, 

And  sets  my  brain  awhirl. 

Oh  Paddy  Dear, 

Bend  down  your  ear, 

While  I  will  whisper  in  it, 

I  can't  resist, 

When  being  kissed 

To  hold  each  kiss  a  minute. 

Then  Paddy  Dear, 

You  can  take  cheer 

With  me  remove  this  blot, 

Just  take  your  fill, 

At  least,  until 

You  find  my  lips  too  hot. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         163 


LOVE'S  ORDEAL 

The  tryant  of  my  soul  but  yesterday, 
Imposed  a  task,  the  like  I'd  never  had, 
My  heart  recoiled,  e're  she  had  had  her  say, 
I  knew  my  efforts  could  but  make  her  sad. 
Therefore  I  paused,  e're  I  accepted  it — 
And  prayed  her  not  to  tax  my  strength  too 

far, 

(Her  inexorable  purpose  had  in  it) 
(To  me  a  danger  that  exceeded  war.) 

I  told  her  deeds  of  daring  I  would  do ; 
Would  face  the  greatest  dangers  at  her  beck, 
But  what  she  asked  I  felt  unequal  to, 
E're  I  succeeded  I  should  fall  a  wreck. 
I  begged  her  to  rethink  one  night  upon  it 
Before  condemning  me  to  write  a  sonnet. 


164         RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


A  WOMAN'S  HEART 

I  knew  a  Lady,  who 

Dealt  lightly  in  the  trade  of  Souls. 

Whose  inner  point  of  view, 

Was  not  in  keeping,  with  the  Doles 

Of  passions  due, 

That's  showered  on  the  fallen  heads 

Of  such — she  knew. 

Her  Charity  instead 

Towards  these  Women  grew, 

When  knowing  all  the  while 

She,  might  have  helped  the  Dead. 

With  more  success — less  guile, 

She  strewed  her  blessings  in  their  way 

Which  they  received  with  hidden  sneers, 

Their  hardened  Souls  could  not  repay 

Her  efforts,  with  unbidden  tears. 

She  knew,  for  she  had  risen  from 

Her  own  dispair,  and  being  strong 

Gave  aid  to  natures  stricken  dumb, 

Engendered  thru  the  midnight  song. 

Need  more  be  said? 

Have    these   lines   failed   its   purpose,    when 

With  message  sped, 

It  reaches  yea,  the  best  of  men, 

Who  knew  her  efforts  with  the  Years. 

With  all  her  inner  suffering 

Were  all  for  Him,  if  he  but  hears 

The  key — note  of  this  offering? 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         165 


"MA  BELLE" 

Shallow,  heartless,  fickle,  wise. 

Yet  beaming  sunshine  from  her  eyes, 

Which  hold  adventure  in  their  depts, 

Inviting  men  to  make  missteps — 

So  she  may  hold  the  upper  hand, 

Until  her  victims  understand, 

That  though  they  dallied  for  her  heart, 

She  ne'er  could  share  its  smallest  part. 

Much  wiser  in  her  knowledge  then 

She  beautified  for  other  men. 

And  they  with  ardour,  soon  would  learn 

The  sweetness  of  her  smile,  and  burn. 

So  pass  your  useless  life  away 

Until  he  comes,  MA  BELLE,  some  day. 

A  man  whom  you  will  least  expect — 

Who'll  win  your  love,  and  deep  respect. 

Who'll  make  your  life,  a  desert  bare. 

You'll  be  repaid He  will  not  care. 


166         RHYMES— WITH  AND   WTHOUT  REASON 


HER  LEADING  MAN 

I  like  to  be  around  when  Ma 
Cooks  funny  things — and  bakes. 
She  says  she's  puzzled  at  such  times 
When  I  has  bellyaches! 

I  sit  about  while  first  she  cooks 
And  everything  I  taste. 
She  never  looks  from  her  cook  book 
While  I  eats  all  the  waste. 

I'm  five — but  still  I  like  my  Ma. 
She's  stunning,  I  declare. 
The  neighbors  says  she  is  a  Star! 
To  my  face  they  don't  dare. 

At  times  I  get  aguessin'  tho, 

So  seldom  do  we  meet. 

But  when  I'm  grown  I'll  surely  know — 

(Gee,  ain't  this  smell  just  sweet?) 

My  dainty  Mama  stoops  and  takes 
The  things  from  out  the  stove, 
And  lays  out  pies,  and  steaming  cakes. 
(My,  how  can  children  rove?) 

I  burn  my  fingers,  as  they  cool — 
I  jump  about  with  rage, 
'Till  our  real  cook,  says  "I'm  a  fool, 
And  Impish  for  my  age." 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         167 

Now,  I  ain't  mean,  or  want  to  be, 
Yet  I  don't  like  the  cook. 
I  told  her  confidentially, 
No  sass  from  her  I  'd  brook ! 

Ma  heard  it  all,  and  laughed,  and  gasped. 
And  then  my  feast  began. 
She  let  me  eat  'till  I  collapsed, 
I  couldn't  hardly  stan'. 

She  bent,  and  picked  me  up,  at  length, 
As  only  Mama's  can 

And  said  "when  I  grew  up  to  strength, 
I'd  be  her  LEADING  MAN." 


ffi 


168         RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


SO    FLEW— THE    "FLU" 

A  Germ  of  German  origin. 
Was  sent  out  from  Berlin, 
To  suffocate  its  way  to  Spain. 
And  German-ate  again. 

It  lingered  there,  a  month  or  so, 
And  stayed  with  friend,  and  foe. 
Yet  left  a  Billion  germs  behind, 
To  tantalize  the  mind. 

They  left  grim  havoc  in  their  wake, 
Before  they  did  forsake 
Those  shores,  and  scurried  o'er  the  sea's 
Like  unseen  mysteries. 

They  landed  in  the  U.  S.  A. 
The  Devil  was  to  pay, 
They  scattered  o'er  our  Continent 
Not  paying  fares,  or  rent. 

'Twas  "Flu"  (let's  hope  to  pass  the  censor) 
Is  Spanish  Influenza. 

Some  day,  "Our  Uncle"  hopes  to  answer — 
This  latest  "GERMAN  KULTUR." 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         169 


POET'S  LOVE 

We  oftimes  have  wondered  when  poets  have 
written 

Details  of  a  nature  that  seemed  far  from 
truth ; 

If  they  had  believed  what  they  wrote,  or  were 
smitten 

With  dream-ladened  visions,  from  calf- 
haunted  youth. 

We  oftimes  have  wondered  ( 'tis  sad  to  admit 
it) 

Why  poets  were  let  loose  to  skip  in  the  world  ? 

To  look  the  sad  spectres  of  love  unrequited 

To  vengefully  turn  out  their  Sonnets  up- 
curled  ! 

We  oftimes  have  wondered  and  who  can  so 

blame  us? 
When  reading  the  ravings  of  love-  newly 

stirred 
Why  such  vapid  sentiment  should  make  them 

famous, 
Which  might  not  contain — just  one  sensible 

word  ? 

And  yet  we  have  read  them !  and  always  will 

read  them, 
Because  our  own  love — was  as  ice  to  their 

flame, 


170         RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

(Like  captives  who  worship  the  fair  name  of 

freedom) 
(Tho'  it  may  be  lacking — still  worship  the 

same!) 

Then  poets  we  wish  ye  good  luck  with  no 
malice ! 

Just  write  us  your  cantos  of  love  day  by  day, 

We  all  would  have  drank  from  the  sweet- 
poisoned  Chalice 

But  somehow  or  other — 'twas  passed  the 
wrong  way! 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         171 


GOD'S  DESIGN 

How  glorious  is  the  truest  type  of  man ! 
Whose  visage  bears  the  noble  stamp  of  life : 
Who  seeks  the  purest  ideals  of  his  elan, 
Who  fights  and  gains  the  laurels  of  the  strife. 
Virtue  and  right  the  weapons  at  his  side, 
With  tolerance  of  strength  for  ribald  jeers: 
Yet  leonine,  when  scoffers  do  deride 
The  non-existence  of  the  God  he  fears. 

The  true  man  seeks  not  honor,  pomp,  nor  pelf, 
For  life  to  him  spells  betterment  of  race : 
His  earthly  span,  the  frieze,  on  which  to 

trace 

Each  good  deed,  that  shall  beautify  itself, 
With  victory  of  life  stamped  on  his  face 
God  manifest,  because  he  conquered  self. 


172         RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


THE  AMBASSADOR 

A  year  ago  I  met  her  first ! 

'Twas  on  her  birthday  night, 

And  previously  I  had  rehearsed 

Deportment,  for  her  sight. 

On  entering,  my  keen  delight 

Was  blighted  in  one  swoop, 

Her  haughty  bearing — gave  me  fright, 

I  knew  myself  her  dupe. 

Her  jet  black  eyes,  my  person  swept 

In  comprehensive  gaze, 

Methought  within  them  mischief  crept 

Behind  their  frosty  glaze ; 

Yet  in  her  calm,  her  frozen  calm: 

And  maidenly  reserve, 

Somehow  I  thrilled  in  wild  alarm, 

I  lost  my  manly  nerve. 

I  offered  her  the  presents,  that 

My  foresight,  had  foreseen, 

And  placed  them  in  position,  at 

The  feet  of  her,  my  queen. 

Her  frigid  glance  turned  sunny  warm, 

Her  hand,  Oh,  how  I  kissed  it! 

Her  soft  insinuating  form, 

In  mine,  a  moment  rested. 

Her  first  cold  welcome  I  forgot, 
(The  present  held  me  captive) 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         173 

Her  haughty  conduct  mattered  not. 
(Her  moods  are  all  attractive.) 
I  overlooked  her  first  disdain, 
Her  chilling  silence,  too, 
Her  sweet  surrender  must  explain 
My  rapid  change  of  view. 

But  since  that  time,  her  love  is  mine, 
I  need  no  more  to  court  her; 
Her  eyes  outshine  the  warmest  clime, 
She  looks  for  what — "I've  brought  her." 
She  woos  me  now — she  climbs  my  knee. 
And  thinks  it  fun, — 0  rather, 
And  asks  me  in  her  childish  glee — 
"What  'as  oo  bruf  me  Far'ver?" 


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174         RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


"BLAZING  THE  TRAIL" 

The  state  of  single  blessedness  is  one 

To  conjure  with  in  early  years, 

With  no  restrictions  on  One's  appetite, 

Where  naught  but  happiness  appears, 

If  grief,  or  sorrow  follow  in  Youth's  wake, 

He  throws  them  off  with  nonchalance, 

He   will   not   view   Life's   troubles    at   their 

worth, 
But  coins  them  into  acts — that  make  romance. 

He  cannot  see,  nor  grasp  a  true  mistake. 

For  kindly  Fate,  now  wears  a  mask, 

His  mind  is  centered  on  each  new  delight 

He  craves  not  any  other  task ! 

He  follows  blindly  'till  the  goal  is  won. 

And  childlike,  tiring  of  a  toy, 

Begins  to  scan  the  radius  of  the  Earth, 

For  prospects  of  another  joy. 

He  travels  on  along  the  road  of  Youth, 
Without  a  thought  of  what's  behind, 
He  gathers  every  Raindrop,  with  the  Sun, 
Without  a  purpose  in  his  mind. 
If  gentle  Maidens  interrupt  his  path 
He  steals  their  charms,  offhandedly, 
Believing  they  belong  to  him  by  right ! 
Fulfilling  'nature 's  destiny. 


RHYMES— WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         175 

Oh,  Careless  boy !  if  you  but  knew  the  wrath 

That  follows  your  excess  of  bliss! 

We  feel,  no  act  of  yours  would  be  undone 

To  Paliate  your  sense  of  this. 

You  blazed  your  trail,  as  others  of  your  kind, 

Garnering  from  each  Flower  you  pressed 

The  essence  of  the  power  that  gave  you  birth, 

You  gained  the  "Make-believe"  at  best! 

L 'ENVOI 

For  this,  and  your  own  youth,  we  envy  you, 
For  though  we  chide,  this  phase  we  would  re 
new! 


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176         RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

THE  SEASONS  OF  LIFE 

Beneath  the  azure  of  a  Spring-time  day, 
The  youthful  couple  went  their  blissful  way, 
With  new  discovered  pleasures  in  their  steps; 
To  them  life  was  a  play  with  untold  depths, 
They  take  their  gladness  which  seemed  their 's 

by  right, 
Unthinking  pleasure  much,  e'en  proves  a 

blight. 

Beneath  the  canopy  of  summer  sky, 
The  lovers  drink  the  cup  of  ecstacy, 
The  nectar  of  new  love  enfills  their  hearts. 
Untouched  as  yet  by  life 's  envenomed  smarts. 
Supreme  in  each,  they  mark  not  cankered  care 
That  like  some  fell  bird,  hovers,  o  'er  •  them 
there. 

Beneath  the  shine  of  gold,  that  autumn  sows, 
The  parents  wend  them  to  the  plot,  where 

grows 

The  floral  sweetness  of  their  constant  care ; 
'Tis  all  that's  left  of  their  sole  pledge  and 

heir, 

Each  day  as  Phoebus  wakes  the  earth  around, 
The  stricken  pair,  by  their  loved  dust  are 
found. 

Beneath  the  leaden  pall  of  winter's  blast, 
Ere  yet  the  dawn  has  nightly  shadows  passed. 
The  aged  man,  with  one  last  effort  speaks; 
His  eyes  once  more  light  up  his  withered 

cheeks, 

"True  pleasure  is  when  long  expentancy 
Nears  its  fruition  in  eternity." 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 


ANALYSIS 

Have  I  in  a  foolish  moment 
Thrown  my  happiness  away — 
Did  I  self  inflict  this  torment 
Have  I  this  great  price  to  pay? 
Must  I  as  the  days  are  quickening — 
Shuddering — from   the   lengthening   nights, 
Feel  forever  this  heart  sickening 
In  the  thought  of  past  delights  ? 

Oh !  to  have  again  my  treasure, 

Just  to  nurse  it  in  my  soul, 

And  to  feel  once  more  the  pleasure 

Of  our  bliss  in  uncontrol? 

How  could  she  have  loved — yet  strickened 

All  my  hopes  of  joy  like  this — 

Did  she  think  she  had  me  weakened 

In  my  manhood — for  a  kiss? 

God — she  must  have  seen  my  longing, 
Must  have  caught  each  loving  glance, 
Noting  none,  her  girlhood  wronging 
Feeling  my  love,  was  not  chance, 
Yet  like  some  old  brazened  Coquette 
Playing  idly  with  my  love, 
Carelessly  pulled  out  from  pocket 
Say — a  stained  and  crumpled  glove. 

Just  as  idly  has  she  thrown  me 
In  some  corner  of  her  room, 


178         RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON 

I  had  pleased  her  once  completely 
Now  the  part  I  can't  resume. 
No,  I  cannot  think  you  human, 
When  you  spurn  the  gift  of  God, 
You  are  neither  man  nor  woman 
But  a  senseless  piece  of  clod. 


RHYMES — WITH  AND  WITHOUT  REASON         179 


THE    "STICKER" 

Dedicated   to    Anita    M.    Baldwin,    founder .  of    the 
' '  Red  Star, ' '  whose  love  for  animals  is  proverbial. 

A  Dog  will  gladly  trot  along 

Sedately  by  your  side, 
He  doesn't  criticize  your  clothes — 

His  Master  is  his  pride. 

If  you  have  but  a  crust  of  bread, 

He'll  forage  for  a  bone, 
And  wag  his  tail  as  joyfully 

To  show  he's  yours  alone. 

He'll  show  his  teeth  in  grin,  or  snarl 

And  prove  with  every  act 
That  frendliness  means  all  to  you 

And  loyalty  a  fact. 

He  will  not  shun  you  when  you're  broki-, 

He'll  sleep  on  stone  or  rug. 
80  Reader— GOD  BLESS  EVERY  DOG ! 

Give  yours  a  pat  and  hug. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  928  065     2 


PS 
3523 


